


The Other Side

by 994527



Category: MotoGP RPF, Motorcycling RPF, Sports RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-26
Updated: 2015-05-23
Packaged: 2018-01-26 15:34:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 47
Words: 87,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1693481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/994527/pseuds/994527
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in a changed version of 2012, Rossi still at Yamaha.</p><p>"You know when you meet someone and for some reason it feels important? That’s what it felt like. But it’s… we say it’s because we’re friends and he wouldn’t like it, but...I broke the one rule. I broke the only rule he said. He said, ‘Have fun when we’re here but I don’t want you talking to this guy’. I feel like I found out the hard way that that rule was a good one. Well… in a way. I wish I’d just come here, met <i>him</i>… and not had to lie."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. You Sound Surprised

**Author's Note:**

> Had this idea for a while, so here we go! Something a little different to my other stuff on here so far...
> 
> I wrote it in third person first, but I think I actually like it more like this, despite the cliche...if you hate it, feel free to tell me ;)

“You ok?”

I shook my head and gritted my teeth. “No.”

“Is there…I mean, want to talk about it?”

I looked at the concern on his face and everything suddenly started to bubble up, going from blind, mad but calm panic to devastation within a few tenths. “I shouldn’t.”

“From what I know of you that doesn’t usually make a difference.” Casey grinned and then realized the depth of the situation. “Sorry, sorry. Look, I’m not going to say anything to anyone. Come down to the hospitality and we’ll get a drink or something.”

I nodded and followed, vaguely aware that following one of your ‘boyfriend’’s biggest rivals into their hospitality area wasn’t a good idea. But I decided, just for once, that I refused to care. I hadn’t created the situation and I certainly hadn’t signed up for this amount of shit.

“Coffee, tea, Red Bull… I think there is wine, probably champagne.”

I studied the HRC rider for a few seconds, stood there in his jeans and Honda shirt, waving a hand down the array of refreshments, seemingly not intent on calling the hospitality staff over to do it for him. “You’re really a nice guy, you know that?”

He blushed slightly and froze as though he didn’t know what to do. “Thanks…?”

Awkwardness descended for a split second before I pointed at the coffee. “Coffee. Thanks. I’ll make it. Sorry if I chose a strange moment to say that.” I smiled at him, the luminescent grin returned, and he didn’t allow me to make it.

“I just don’t know why you sounded so surprised.”

I laughed and watched the coffee pour into my cup.  
.  
“Maybe you can guess why.” I shot him a sideways look. “But for the record, I think you’re usually right. Laguna 2008.” I smiled as his expression changed to surprise, face completely different and charisma turned on.

“Are you allowed to say that?”

“I can say whatever I want, especially today.”

He swallowed an expression of slight satisfaction and turned it back into concern, which again made everything seem a whole lot worse than it had. _Such a genuine expression. Almost as genuine as…the thing we are going to try and broach.._

We sat down at a table at the back.

“So…” The words faded as I realized that this point was probably one of no return. “You know the second the words leave my mouth, they _cannot_ go any further.”

He nodded. “You can trust me.”

“I know. Ironically.” I took a deep breath and wondered where to start. The pause became too long.

“Look…is it problems with you and Vale? Should you… I mean, I’m probably not the best person to talk to…” He smiled wearily, shrugging slightly and communicating _it is what it is_.

I nodded. “I know. But I don’t trust many people here. I trust you. And someone else. So yes, problems…but not how you might think.”

He frowned. “Ok…?”

I was bursting to say something to someone, anyone. So the words sprinted away from me quickly, full of equal parts regret and relief. “It’s not real. It’s because…I’ve known him for a while and we always had fun together, doing events and stuff. He was getting really bothered by the rumours of him not having anyone here, just Uccio…being gay, so he…well, he asked me if I would play his girlfriend. A few months, maybe a season. Then we’d ‘break up’, keep it friendly, and no one would say anything about it for a while. He’d get a break from it.”

Casey’s chin was practically on the floor. “WHAT?!”

I nodded and winced at the fact that I had broken the promise, and the person I’d chosen to tell was the least acceptable. Not including one certain other rider, but this was bad enough.

“So… you’re just friends with him? It’s just a show?”

I nodded again. “It’s a show that looks much more fun on the outside than it is.”

He nodded and took a sip of his coffee. “I can imagine.”

“How?”

One of the things I most liked about Casey was that he understood my literal questions, and lack of subtext. How meant how. It just meant exactly what it meant.

“It must be difficult living with a lie…?”

I shrugged and shook my head. “It wasn’t, really. It was just friends having fun, maybe hugging a bit longer than we would have done in public, kissing, but it was easy. No stress. I _love_ this paddock. The press are a bit annoying, but…” I shrugged. “That information was the background, not the problem.”

He frowned and a further flicker of surprise passed across his expression. “Oh..?”

 _Here we go…_ “The problem is that it was friends having fun, and now it isn’t. It’s changed.”

His face descended into an eek. “You feel more?”

I shook my head. “No, but thanks for the gender stereotype.” I raised my eyebrows at him and watched him blush. “But he…after practice, he told me that he’d been thinking about the situation and that he… he didn’t want to lie anymore. So I said ok, fine… I’ll not come to another race, we’ll try and wind it down this weekend, then we’re done. And he said, ‘Please don’t say that. I think I love you.’”

Casey almost spit coffee over the table. “What?!”

“I know. I mean, don’t get me wrong…he’s not gay, we’re not trying to cover anything up. But equally I never expected that.”

“So you _don’t_ feel that…”

“No, and that’s sad, and it hurts to see him upset, but then…”

The door opened a few feet away and Dani walked in, immediate silence descending as he smiled and waved. “Hello.”

The reply came out in chorus. 

“Hi.” 

We looked at each other and then back at Dani, realizing at the same time that this was quite a strange situation. The Sabadell rider frowned back and poured a glass of orange juice. “What are you doing here?”

“Just, er… talking. Casey was giving me some advice.”

Dani raised his eyebrows slightly. “Ah?”

I shrugged. “Valentino left. They’re doing some stuff on the setup. Jorge’s side of the garage was empty and I ran into Casey, so… here I am.”

That seemed a more satisfactory explanation and the smile returned to Dani’s face. “Don’t let them see you down here!” He patted Casey on the back as he walked back to the door. “Bai.”

Casey shot me a look that seemed to say ‘that was slightly awkward and let’s hope he immediately forgets about it’ and I agreed with a nod of the head. “Ok so… as I was saying. It hurts to upset him, but I can’t lie about how I feel. I can’t pretend that it is something, can I? Well, I can, but there are a lot of reasons why I won’t. But then obviously we did a good job of pretending, you know? Everyone believed us. Even him.”

Casey nodded. “So…I mean, what happened?”

“He got angry, and upset, and walked out. He said some really awful things. Vale, you know… he’s a lot of fun, and he’s a good person. But he’s got a real streak of spite in him. So that upset me. Then he sent me a message saying to ignore what he said and that he was just confused and that we should carry on as we were, sorry sorry etc.”

Casey nodded along with what I was saying. “And you don’t want to.”

I shook my head. “I don’t. But it’s… It wouldn’t be right, to do that to him, if he is feeling… anything. He can turn on the charm, he can look at me like that. But it doesn’t make a difference. And some of the things he said… I don’t know. I’m not like that. I don’t say things in the heat of the moment. If I say it, I mean it. I have a hard time with people who aren’t like that, when you go past laughing and into actually feeling. So I don’t know what to think. I can’t pretend with him anymore, it’s not fair on him. But it…” I took a deep breath. “It wouldn’t be right for me, either. Because…”

The look in his eyes was something between ‘I know what you’re saying’ and complete doubt.

“I’ve got a serious, serious problem.” The explosion came back and I unceremoniously blubbed behind my coffee cup. “Because…I…” I trailed off and left my expression frozen opposite the Australian’s expression of expectant nerves.

“Ok stop…” His face was burning red and he was blinking a little too much. “This may be a strange thing to ask, but…it’s not me, is it?”

I looked at him and laughed nervously. “No, it’s not you. It could have been, if you were slightly taller and less Australian.” I smiled back at his grin. “I love you, but not like that.”

“Ok.” He breathed a slight sigh of relief. “I mean…I didn’t mean that relief to be… offensive, just…well, you know. I have a wife.”

“I know, man. Your wife is lovely.” _Just because you have a wife, eh?_

He nodded in agreement and frowned, back to serious business. “But…there is someone else? That’s the…problem?”

I nodded. “Yeah. Here, in the paddock.”

Casey made a face and took another sip of his drink. “Another rider? That’s messy.”

“I know.”

“So…who is it?”

I smiled slightly at his expression of badly-hidden glee at how juicy it sounded. “We obviously are doing a good job of hiding if you have no idea. I don’t even…it feels weird even saying it out loud. It’s become part of life that this thing is hidden. On pain of death. We’ve never talked about it, really. Not in terms of anything happening. It’s feelings, not… facts. But then I don’t know if it’s just me creating something mutual like a lovesick teenager… just…you have no idea?”

He shook his head, frowned and considered it. “Well…it’s not Dani.”

I shook my head.

“Who, by the way, I think is also slightly in love with you.”

I spluttered and felt my eyes widen. “What?”

He nodded and spread his hands. “You’re a…” He went red. “You’re… a very… attractive woman. A _real_ one. And you’re in a male environment, proving you have more balls than some of us.” He grinned and stayed slightly pink. “You… I don’t know. But I think so.”

I blushed at stared at him. “…thanks?”

He smiled _that_ smile again. “Take it as a compliment.” He laughed and took another sip of coffee. “Ok, well..It’s not Cal.”

Nope.

“It’s not Aleix. Or Pol.”

No.

“It’s not Nicky?”

 _Interesting how you doubted that_ , but no.

“I have no idea. You never spend time with anyone else.”

“Except you. And when I’m with you or Cal or Nicky, what do you take the piss out of me for?”

“Being on your phone.”

I nodded. “And if I’m not texting Valentino, I’m texting…”

“Christ, I don’t know! I’ve never seen you with anyone else. Except Valentino.”

“Which would be because…”

“It’s a secret.”

“Yeah…”

“Shit, so it’s a real thing that’s happening?”

“Well it’s not an affair or whatever you would call cheating on a fake boyfriend who wants to be a real boyfriend. It’s just… talking. You know when you meet someone and for some reason it feels important? That’s what it felt like. But it’s… we say it’s because we’re friends and Valentino wouldn’t like it, but...I broke the one rule. I broke the only rule Vale said. He said, ‘Have fun when we’re here but I don’t want you talking to this guy’. I feel like I found out the hard way that that rule was a good one. Well… in a way. I wish I’d just come here, met him… and not had to lie.”

“So the other guy doesn’t know you aren’t the future Mrs Rossi?”

“No.”

“Shit. And it’s someone Vale-“

He stopped as his phone started to ring.

“Hang on.” He shot me an apologetic look and tapped the screen to answer as I winced at how close he might have been to a correct guess. I started to panic as I realized who it might be on the phone.

“Helloo..?” – “I can’t hear you very well.” – “Are you drunk?” – “No I’m still at the track. Where are you?” – “Oh. Is that a good idea?” – “Ok ok calm down.” – “Oh, right. No I can’t, I’m still at the track, like I said.” – “Ok have a good time. Stop drinking.”

He put the phone down and apologetically frowned at me.

“That was weird. Jorge. He’s at a bar with Cal and Lucy and some other Yamaha guys. I could hear Cal telling him to put the phone down in the background.”

“He’s drunk?!”

“Sounded a bit worse for wear.”

Casey slid down in the seat to allow him to push the phone back into his pocket. “Anyway, whatever. So you’re going to make me guess, right?”

I nodded. “I’m impressed how long it’s taking. We’re obviously doing a good job. Ca-“

My phone started to vibrate and Casey rolled his eyes at the second disruption. Until he saw my reaction as I looked at the number.

“That’s him, isn’t it?”

I nodded. “Completely ignoring the text-before-you-call rule. Stubborn arsehole.”

Then the ringtone started. And Casey’s jaw hit the floor.

I kept eye contact with him as his eyes kept widening and I picked up the call. “I can’t talk to you right now. - No, listen, really…I can’t. I’m sorry. Sorry. I’ll tell you later.” I tried to quicken the call as much as possible. Eventually, I just said goodbye and pressed ‘end call’.

Casey drummed his fingers on the table, the quick fire calls ticking over in his brain. “Holy shit. Am I right??”

My eyes kept locked onto his and I nodded. “I don’t know what to do.”

He sat frozen and stared back at me. “Fuck.”

“I know.”

“I mean… shit.”

“Yes, I KNOW.”

He shook his head and sat up straighter. “So… what are you going to do? How has he kept this hidden?!”

“I don’t know. I don’t know.”

“What does he want to do?”

“He has no idea that it’s like this. I think… I don’t want to sound like.. whatever this sounds like, but I think he knows that the problem is Vale. I think he knows that if Vale wasn’t there, every answer would be a yes, every phone call would be answered. But I also think he knows that if he really pushed, if he really committed to making it 99 vs 46, he’d win anyway. By a long way. He just sounds like he knows. Like he’s just…making sure. And… he hasn’t tried. He’s not pushed, he’s not done anything. He’s not crossed the line once.”

My phone rang again, but this time a name flashed up on the screen. Vale. Casey looked at me as I hit ‘ignore’.

“You know when you ignore his calls and answer the phone to the other guy, that says a lot.”

I nodded. “I know. I’m not…confused. It’s not a decision of one versus the other…it’s more like…what the fuck do I do?”

“What do you want to do?”

“It’s more complicated than that. I mean…he-Jorge doesn’t even know that it isn’t real. We haven’t talked about it. Nothing’s happened. But it’s… I think I’m right. But I’m still terrified in case I’m not. I mean, what if he just doesn’t feel like that, and the situation isn’t complicated at all?”

Casey shrugged. “I don’t know. I mean… What you see is what you get with him. Well…maybe if he just wanted to get in your pants it wouldn’t be, but…” Casey grinned at me as if asking _am I right?!_

I smiled affectionately but disapprovingly, if such a combination exists. “I know.”

“Just like you.”

“Yeah, I know!”

We shared a laugh before and quick few sips of coffee.

“So…I mean, what has he said?”

“Nothing. He keeps trying to make me sneak away so that we can do stupid things, but things that Valentino isn’t interested in, so it might seem normal. Like, I mentioned that Vale would hate this Spanish film I want to see, so obviously he said we should watch it in his motorhome…then hastily added that he could invite Ricky too…just… things like that. And when he knows I’m not here – like testing – he calls, a lot. A few weeks ago we spent 3 and a half hours on the phone. I cooked and ate a meal, took my brother’s dog for a walk, uploaded photos…and still hadn’t run out of anything to say.”

Casey’s phone beeped and he held up the screen for me to read.

_Not drunk, Casey! Call me? I need to talk someone about something!_

I growled in irritation and the Honda rider frowned at me. I pointed at the message. “You’d understand if you’d witnessed the amount of time I’ve spent teaching him that it’s talk TO.”

The corner of his eyes crinkled as he smiled at me, too knowingly.

“What?”

He raised his eyebrows. “This is a real thing, isn’t it?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean…you actually know him, don’t you? Really well, really quickly. It’s not because he’s a rider, it’s not just physical…”

“No. It’s not been physical. It’s not… I’d lo-“ I cut myself off quickly and looked at him, panicked, wondering if he’d unraveled the start of the word I had been about to say. “It wouldn’t make a difference if he was a student from Kinshasa.”

He narrowed his eyes at me and I could see him ticking over _were you about to say something there?_ Eventually he seemed to read my silent plea and ignored it. “And… you’d say that he knows you?”

I nodded. “That’s the problem. I absolutely understand how I feel about… everything …in the situation. I just… I don’t know whether I can say anything, do anything, change anything…”

“Ok well there’s a reason why you got upset today, right? Valentino. So that’s why you told me. Why would he be suddenly crazy? Do you think it’s about you or just some old-skool stubborn, angry Lorenzo?”

I raised my eyebrows at him and he shrugged and grinned in an _oh, you know what I mean._

“I don’t know. Ok…If…If it’s ok with you, I’m going to call him back.”

He nodded and spread his arms as if to say be my guest.

I got up and walked across to the door, ducking behind it and dialing the number I knew well. He picked up after half a ring.

“Hi. What’s wrong?”

_“Nothing. How are you?”_

“Stop trying to pretend everything’s ok. I just saw the message you sent to Casey.”

_“Oh. Shit! Wha…why? Are you with him? What’s going on? Is he…did he guess?”_

“He didn’t say anything.” _Guess? Guess what? There is something to guess?_ “Come on, what’s going on?”

_“I can’t talk to you about it.”_

“Why not? So why did you call me before?”

Silence reverberated back at me. I sighed. _You can, you just don’t know why you can_. “Ok, I understand. Talk to Casey. Hang on.”

I went back inside and held out the phone. He took it and frowned.

“Hi?” The Honda rider’s eyes widened as he listened and he looked up at me. “But you didn’t hit him?” He relaxed slightly; my eyes widened. “Ok, good. Right, just get a taxi back here. Come to my motorhome for a beer and just calm down.”

The call ended abruptly and Casey passed the phone back.

“So…??”

He shook his head. “He overheard someone talking about you and Valentino in the bar. He didn’t like what they said. He went over and tapped the guy on the shoulder..”

“Fuck.”

Casey nodded. “He’s on his way back here. We’ll wait for him in my motorhome, then you can talk in private and… further away from Yamaha. OK?”

 _For Yamaha, read Valentino._ I nodded and pulled him into a hug.

“You’re a really nice guy, you know?”

“You still sound surprised.”


	2. I'll Be Back

The door opened and Casey reappeared, me having spent the last few minutes sat awkwardly in his motorhome. “Still not here?”

I shook my head. “Nope.”

“Ok… well… something happened.”

“What happened?!”

“No, no, no…don’t panic. It’s not an emergency. Well… it’s… Valentino just tweeted something you’ll want to see.” He sat down next to me and held up his phone. I read the words on the screen and felt anger flush my face.

He’d replied to someone specifically asking about me.

_Vale is it true you and your girlfriend split up?_

The reply: _Yes._

“What the fuck.”

I pulled out my phone and dialed my voicemail as I realised I’d ignored him earlier.

_”‘Ello, is me.”_

I put it on speaker so Casey could hear, feeling horrificly guilty for doing that.

_“I’m sorry about what I say and I think maybe you are right so… I think we should stop, and so… Ok. I’ll see you later if you still want to come back. Just friends, ignore all the thing I say. Sorry and-er…I say to everybody is over between us. Ok, bye.”_

“That’s it?”

“Apparently. That’s it.” I slammed my phone down on the table and went outside, marched down back towards Yamaha in a battle between rage and nerves, and saw the light on in one of the motorhomes. _Of all the things I expected to fuck this up further, I didn’t expect a public announcement like that. But maybe it makes things simpler? Maybe it’s just a question of waiting enough time…_

I realized quite why I was so angry. First, because I’d recreated my entire life around the Rossi circus, for months, and he’d just effectively fired me, without asking or talking to me. And he _knew_ what I'd given up. Secondly, because I was terrified.

_What if I say ‘Hey, Jorge…we lied. So actually I’m single!’ and …nothing. But would it almost be worse if…something? How would that work? If Vale really cares, if he doesn’t publicly admit it wasn’t real, which he won’t, then me and Jorge are going to be black flagged by everyone for a long time._

I saw shapes moving around in Vale’s motorhome, and the anger replaced the fear again.

“Valentino ARE YOU IN THERE?” I rapped on the door and folded my arms.

The door opened after a brief pause and he stood there sheepishly.

“What the fuck have you done?”

He shrugged, trying to cover the knowing in his face. “What do you mean? You get the message? Is what you want, no?”

“Yes but… there’s the rest of the weekend. What am I going to do? Just go home? You made this part of my life and then you just tweet something and it’s gone? Is that it? Just get my job back for Monday and I’m gone? Assuming they’ll let me back, which I doubt-”

“Ok ok ok ok, calm down. Maybe I should speak to you.”

“No. Not maybe. Fuck’s sake, I was helping you. I’m sorry if…I’m sorry if it got a bit complicated, but I didn’t do that.”

“Ok.” He retracted the hand he’d put out to try and grab mine. “Sorry.”

“Yeah, it’s always sorry isn’t it? Act now, apologize if necessary.”

“I…you…I… now I know you don’t care, I need to be over. Now.”

I felt my heart soften and cursed the puppy dog eyes, voice lower. “Yes fine, but you could have talked to me!” I tried to keep my voice steady and stay calm, perfectly aware that he probably (mostly) _probably_ hadn’t done it on purpose. “I understand. And I’m sorry. But what do I do now? I’ve lived my entire life here for 7 months and you’ve just…ruined…everything…”

“I call.”

“Once! And you left that message that I didn’t even get until now! Casey just showed me your tweet! THAT’S HOW I KNOW THAT YOU TOLD PEOPLE! A TWEET! We argued but we didn’t make any decisions…I mean…nothing!”

“OK, look…I’m sorry. But, you know… you made this ‘appen.”

I shook my head. “I did what you asked and I did it well and it was fun. And you made it …more!”

“Casey showed you my tweet?”

I nodded.

“You were down at 'onda ignoring my call talking to Casey?”

I felt the control fade away and pressed fire. “Fuck you! I was talking to Casey because you were really nasty to me, ok? I wanted to talk to someone about it. You know, I actually felt really upset for you.”

He just stared back at me, all stony bitch-face and shrug.

“Now I’m going to get my bag out your motorhome. Goodnight, Valentino.” I gently pushed past him inside and thanked the Lord I hadn’t really unpacked, grabbing my toothbrush out the bathroom and my bag from the bed, realizing that I hadn’t thought it through at all. There was no way there’d be any hotel rooms left on race weekend.

He just stared back at me. “So you’re going to leave?”

“Well, yeah. After the race. I’m going to leave. But I’m going to leave you right now.”

He hung his head and shook it, realising I was serious. “Look…I’m really sorry. I.. I didn’t think about everything, I was just disappointed when you didn’t… say what I want you to say, and…”

I took a deep breath. “I understand that. I understand. Just…” The anger started to fade and I lowered my voice. “Urgh. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, ok? Good luck in qualifying. I’m sorry I don’t…I just don’t. Be safe.”

It faded away as I turned around and listened to his footsteps follow me. I stopped and turned to face him.

“What are you doing?”

“I just…want to say, I’m sorry.” He held up his hands and it felt right; as though he wanted to say it for me rather than to make himself feel better. I put the bag down and walked over to him, wrapping him in a hug and shivering as his lips planted a kiss on my neck. _I don’t love you, but you shouldn’t do that_. I gave him a squeeze and pulled away, leaving us staring at each other for a few seconds.

“Night, Valentino.”

I picked up the bag again and tried not to get sucked back in by his expression, just about to turn around when he suddenly did something I never thought I would ever see anyone do, for me. Least of all a nine time world champion. He was begging.

“Please. Don’t.”

I stood there and stared. _What do I do?_

“It could work.”

“No, Vale. It won’t ever work. I’m sorry.”

“Please-“

I shook my head and turned around again. “Goodnight.”

I walked down back where I’d come from, slowly, finally pausing after a few minutes to check Vale had gone back inside. He had, and there was no one else around down the Yamaha end. I looked up to see Dani walking the other way, just as I stopped outside Casey’s door.

“Hello, again.”

He smiled then looked at the bag in my hand and my hand on the doorknob of his teammate’s motorhome.

“You going in there?”

I nodded at him, face red. “It’s not as weird as it looks. Casey’s just helping me out.”

Dani nodded and frowned, like _hmm, really?_ “Are you leaving?”

I shrugged. “You saw the tweet?”

He nodded. “Yeah. Sorry.”

“It’s ok. Well… it’s not ok. I’m ok with it, but… I didn’t know he was going to tweet that. I knew we were going to…stop, but I didn’t expect that. So I’m a bit screwed.”

Dani frowned as he tried to follow my English, hopefully adding at the end, “You can always stay with me if Casey can’t help…”

“Thank you. But…I’m waiting for someone so…I should be ok.”

“Ok well…you know where I am.”

He walked the few more steps past me and up to his twin motorhome.

“Thanks, Dani. Night.”

“Goodnight.”

I waited until he was inside before knocking on the door of Casey’s motorhome again.

“Come in…”

I went in and plonked the bag down, finding the Australian smiling hopefully at me before he saw the stormy expression.

“Done.”

“Done?”

“Got my stuff, yelled a bit… probably upset him too much. Then hopefully repaired it a bit. Then watched a 9 time world champion beg.”

“Oh.” Casey grimaced.

“Yeah.” I closed my eyes and touched my fingers to my temples as I felt arms pull me into a hug. “Sorry.”

“It’s ok.”

I realized he was waiting for me to move, and I realized I wasn’t moving. He didn’t seem to mind.

“Then I saw Dani again, stood outside your motorhome with my bag.”

“Oh dear…” Casey laughed wickedly and tentatively put a hand on my back.

“I just told him the truth. You were helping me out and that I was just waiting for someone.”

“You said you were waiting for someone?”

“Yeah?”

“So when a taxi pulls up outside in a minute, Dani is going to look out the window and see what?”

“Shit.”

“Exactly.”

I winced as I heard exactly that, before feeling relief flood through me. _Cal._ Cal paying someone, Jorge saying he had no money. Not just Jorge. They barreled in through the door without knocking, and Casey rolled his eyes and pulled out of the hug slowly, keeping one arm linked around my back.

“Come in…” 

Jorge stared at me, then stared at him. Then back at me as if to say _what’s going on here?_ , eyes blazing like feminism had never happened and this was an affront to his personal dignity.

“So you made it back?” Casey addressed Cal and then glared at Jorge’s expression. The testosterone level ramped up slightly and I suddenly felt myself gently pushed away from him and towards the Yamaha Factory rider. “There’s a lovely woman here who’s not very happy.” Casey motioned at me and met his rival’s gaze. “Since you interrupted my hug…” 

Normally, being physically passed from one male to another wouldn’t have been very acceptable, but it wasn’t that Casey thought he had the right, it’s that he had guessed absolutely correctly that all I really wanted was that – but that I’d never push myself into it, and that he wasn’t a substitute. _Man up! is the phrase I need._

Jorge stared at me and the hostility disappeared as he frowned slightly at the Honda rider, confused about everything but pulling me into a hug as suggested. I let all the stress go and let myself just relax against his chest, taking a few deep breaths, feeling slightly embarrassed at how tightly I was clinging on to him. I felt lips press against my ear. “Are you ok?”

I nodded and pulled away reluctantly, realizing that Cal hadn’t got any idea what was happening and was attempting to carry on talking to Casey. “Yep. He finally calmed down.” The Tech3 rider pointed at Jorge and sat down next to the HRC rider, leaving only one Lorenzo-sized gap to sit in. I cringed slightly and felt the entire left side of my body flush white hot as he sat down next to me. Jorge looked at Cal as if to say _you really haven’t been listening to me at all._

“I was calm. I er…wasn’t happy.”

He shifted slightly on the seat and I felt myself automatically tense up and try not to make contact.

_This is so weird. I’ve told him things I’ve told to almost nobody, and yet here we are sat next to each other basically trying to ignore that fact, pretending that we don’t know each other very well at all and that it isn’t strange._

_And he has no idea Casey knows what he knows, or probably that we 'broke up', or probably that Casey knows what only Valentino knew._

I studied Cal, wondering whether I should tell him or not. He suddenly looked up from his phone to me.

“Did this just happen?”

I nodded as I realized he’d probably just seen the tweet. “Yeah.”

“What?” Jorge looked from Cal to me, frown in place.

I looked towards Casey to try and take the pressure off. “Me and Valentino is over.”

“Oh.”

I looked back at him trying to put a sad expression over the twinkle that had appeared.

“Sorry. What happened?” Cal frowned at me and I smiled sadly, shrugging and sighing.

“Not much. It just wasn’t working. We didn’t really feel the same way about each other…so, it makes sense.”

“You seem…ok?”

I nodded, still looking at Cal, conscious of the Mallorcan eyes looking at me from the side. “I’m ok. I’m pissed off how he tweeted it, but it’s fine. It’s better this way.”

“You didn’t feel the same way?” The Brit looked at me again, puzzled. “You looked really happy.”

I shrugged and caught Casey’s half hidden smile out the corner of my eye.

“I just don’t feel that way about him… We started off as friends and I’ve never really…” The Tech3 rider’s eyes were confused and for some reason I knew I was going to tell the truth. If only because then someone else would hear it too. “Ok, this can go no further, but it wasn’t…real. It was a lie…”

I trailed off and felt the awkwardness of Casey obviously already being aware, Cal looking decidedly uncomfortable, and Jorge sitting completely still. I could see the reflection of his face, see him straining slightly to keep it neutral.

“Sorry?”

Casey and Cal looked at Jorge, anticipating a response; Casey with more expectation. His eyes widened slightly and he turned half towards me.

The Mallorcan still didn’t say anything and I realized I had said it in garbled, fast English. I made sure to speak slower. And explain. Fully.

“I lied. We were lying. _Mentimos_. To everybody. I wasn’t Valentino’s girlfriend. It was because of the gay rumours; he wanted to prove them wrong without commitment and everything… and it was fun. I didn’t start to feel anything else for him, but today he said that he thought he loved me. Since then he’s yelled and cried and been vindictive and sorry…and tweeted that we broke up. Without talking to me first.”

Jorge’s face as a painting would have fetched 6 figures.

“It wasn’t real.”

He just stared back before finally finding words.

“You and Valentino...”

I nodded. “Not real.”

I was conscious of the amount of time we’d spent staring at each other almost as much as the amount of different emotions swirling in his expression. Happiness? Relief? Anger? Frustration? Vindication?

“It was _all_ …a lie.”

“Yes.” I saw a flicker of _something_ cross his face and I quantified what I meant. “With _Valentino_ , it was a lie.”

“Well..you did a bloody good job!” Cal shrugged and raised his beer in a puzzling combination of unhappiness, a shrug and a cheers. “I had no fucking idea.”

I looked at him and shrugged in return. “I…thanks?”

“Well..I don’t know what to say, really. I mean…it’s a bit of a first, you know.”

I nodded. “I know. It…wasn’t a cover up or anything, it was…just some space for him to get a break.”

Everyone nodded slightly except Jorge, who got to his feet, serious expression, miles from the room and obviously needing to leave it, wrenching the door open on his way out.

“I’ll be back.”


	3. ¿Vale?

I swayed between following and not, and eventually deciding to, looking at Cal and Casey in a cheery interpretation of _how strange!_ and stepping outside, colder air hitting me immediately.

“What are you doing?”

He was stood some way in front of the door, head tilted back, remaining beer in the bottle diminishing quickly. He finished it and came back up for air, not turning round to talk to me.

“Drinking my beer.”

“Outside?”

He nodded and stared down towards the Yamaha motorhomes. “Yeah.” Subtext: _problem?_

“Fine.” I shrugged at him, not willing to stand there and talk to a brick wall. “I’ll go back inside, then.”

He turned round to face me and spread his palms, my tone making it clear it was either that or I left. “Why are _you_ being like this?”

“Like what?”

“Like… angry at _me_. You lied.” He turned back and carried on staring into the dark.

I nodded and shrugged. “Yeah, and I'm sorry. It wasn’t a bad lie, though…I mean, it wasn’t to hurt anybody.”

"So that makes it ok?"

"That's not what I said. I'm just...making it clear that hurting people wasn't the goal. Lying to you wasn't the goal."

“Ok. I understand. But you lied to _me._ ”

 _Ah._ “Yeah, I did. I’m sorry I did that." I stared at the back of his head and shrugged slightly helplessly, truth being exactly what he'd said. "I'm sorry. But…” I trailed off and waited to see if he'd want the explanation, or if he'd turn round.

“But?”

I wondered if his reaction was confirmation enough, eventually losing patience and getting ready to make the jump. “Ok…but…I was scared.”

“Of me?! Saying something?”

“No! Of…this.”

“This?” He turned around, finally, and shrugged. “This? You mean _me_ …”

“No, NOT you. I was…well, I am scared. Because…because if I told you, you’d know. And I was worried that would change things. Between us. Which would have…I don’t know. I was trying to keep it simple.”

“Us.”

 _Exactly. Us._ “Yeah. I left my job to come here and be ‘Valentino’s girlfriend’, because I…I don’t know really. I was bored, he was fun…and I’d get to be here. I’m not a groupie, you know that. But I love this sport so much, and I couldn’t say no. And then…well, I guess we’d already met. But then I got to know you, and it got…complicated.”

“Complicated?”

“Complicated. Because…ok, maybe this is me embarrassing myself, and I’ve no idea what you’re going to say…but you’re more than a friend to me. Valentino never was. So…that’s it.”

His eyes shone at me, a little brighter than before, but face still on the darker side of stormy. “But you _lied._ ”

 _No response to the big part of that_. “I did. Because I was scared, and I’m sorry, and please please don’t let me lose you on the same day as I’m losing him.”

He shrugged, understanding but still bothered, my words obviously meant and taken that way, and lined up to throw his bottle in the bin. And missed, horribly. As in, hit me with a beer bottle at point blank range, straight in the chest.

I let out an _oof!_ and watched as his eyes widened, cringing as the bottle smashed on the floor and led to Casey ripping the door open. 

“Oh my god! Sorry!” 

I leant down on my knees slightly to get my breath back and started to laugh as he covered the last few paces and put a hand on the small of my back.

Casey let his eyes wander over the scene and I could see his brain start to conclude that Jorge had glassed me. Which was true in a way, but also extremely false.

I stood back up straight and tried to stop giggling as I looked at Jorge’s face and saw the abject terror and mortifying guilt, my sins erased for the moment. I squeezed the top of his arm and shook my head. “I’m fine. Calm down.”

“But…”

“It’s fine, you threw a glass bottle at me, happens everyday.” I saw the guilt intensify. “I’m joking. I’m fine. It’s just…it’s too funny.” I was giggling uncontrollably and pressing my palm to my chest to check for damage. “Honestly. I’m fine. It’s quite a …soft target.”

Jorge went red and I overheard Casey relaying the situation back to Cal. The window immediately opened and Cal’s head popped out.

“Did you just throw a bottle at her?!”

Jorge put his fingers to his temples and let out a groan. “Yeah…”

“Yes he did. Call the police.”

The seriousness in my voice sent another wave of horror over the Mallorcan’s face and I rolled my eyes. “I’m joking. I promise. It’s fine. We all make mistakes, even with people we care about. Right?” I held out my hands as a _let’s hug it out_ , his face changing at those words and defrosting as he hesitantly started to put his arms around me. Cal wolf-whistled and I had to finish the job myself, pulling him into a hug and squeezing, feeling the same in response.

“I’m fine.” I said it quietly but I was close enough to his ear for it to be heard. A murmured ‘I’m sorry, sorry, so sorry’ echoed back to me and I squeezed again. “I’m fine.”

Conscious of the audience, I pulled out of the hug and pulled his sleeve back towards the motorhome. “Let’s go back inside and...hope the police don’t turn up.”

He fake glared at me as if to say _I know you’re joking, but it’s not funny_ , me smiling and shrugging, sorry but not sorry, at least for this, hauling him back inside and glad he seemed a bit more defused.

“Ok…so…” I sat down again where we'd been before and tried to smile. It had started to throb slightly, and it had hit me pretty hard, but I could see that the running joke, or admitting that actually it did hurt a lot, wouldn’t do anything to make the accidental perpetrator feel any better. And I was in the red on that score anyway. He sat down next to me again and glared at Cal’s grin.

I left a few moments of silence before turning back to him, trying to get us away from the violence and lying and back to getting a _response_.

“Now, can you explain to me why you almost hit somebody _else_ tonight?”

He went slightly red and closed his eyes. “That was… it was just a moment.”

“What made you angry?”

“They were talking shit about someone.”

“Jorge. I was with Casey. He told me they were talking shit about me and Valentino.”

The shade of red got deeper and he looked at Casey in pure outrage, the Australian widening his eyes in innocence, before realizing there was no way out. “Yes. Ok. They were talking shit about you. And I didn’t like it.”

“Why?”

“Because I thought they were being rude.”

“Why did it matter? You know people talk shit sometimes.” I realized I’d said that as though we’d talked about this before, wincing internally and noticing the interest on the other two’s faces.

“It mattered because it’s a principle.”

“Why?”

“Because…”

I waited.

I saw Cal and Casey exchange glances, Casey looking him with raised his eyebrows, as though to say _are you following this like I am?_ The silence was too long.

“Ok. Are you ok now, though?” I tried to smile casually and suddenly felt very claustrophobic, shooting to my feet and smiling too widely. _Tea. Tea will help_. “Er…anybody want a –hot- drink?” _Stupid._

Casey nodded _coffee_ , Cal shook his head. Jorge looked up at me, puzzled, but nodded. “Thanks..?”

Cal looked at him like _‘what?!’_. “You won’t sleep.”

I chose to ignore him on everyone’s behalf and motioned at Casey. “This might be a stupid question, but is there any milk in here?”

The Honda rider laughed and pointed at the fridge. “Yeah. They still put it in there.”

I tried to tone out the sounds of the Lorenzo explanations shooting between the sofas, and concentrated on tea and the kettle.

“Casey? Sugar?”

He nodded. “One.”

I made his, then my own, then Jorge’s. _No milk, 2 sugars, strong enough to be classed as syrup._

I carried them back over.

“Coffee…” 

“Thanks.”

“Coffee or...syrup.”

Jorge gave me a sideways smile and took the mug. “Thank you.”

Cal pointed at me and I froze as I realised the problem. “How do you know how he takes his coffee?”

 _Fuuuuuuuuck._ “I thought everybody knew.”

Cal shook his head and wiggled his eyebrows. “Sounds like the kind of thing you learn the morning after, if you ask me.”

Casey grinned guiltily and looked at me questioningly; then smacked the Tech3 rider lightly on the arm as he saw the lack of enjoyment on my face.

“Hey, no, ok?” Jorge sat upright and put his cup down, measurably irritated.

“What?”

“Don’t…say things like this.”

“Aww come on. It’s only a joke.”

“It’s not funny. You can’t accuse people of having sex with girlfriend of their teammate.” The way he said _having sex_ lent a slightly awkward tension to the room. 

Cal held up his hands defensively. “Calm down.” Unusually instructive. “I was only joking. If you ask me…” He grinned wickedly at Casey. “It wouldn’t be a problem if you hadn’t thought about it!”

Jorge let the English tick through his brain and glared. “Don’t, Cal.”

“Yeah come on, guys.” Casey made a better job of placating than Cal, less edgy. “Just calm down.”

“Look! I’m calm, ok? I’m not happy. He’s saying these things about me, and … h-her and it’s not funny. It’s a bad idea right now…”

“Because?” Cal rolled his eyes at him, expecting another Lorenzo explanation that seemed over-thought and wrought with paranoia, reality very different.

“Because it’s important that _it’s not cheating_.”

Silence reigned for another eternal few seconds before Cal exploded.

“WHAT?!” He spluttered and his eyes widened. “I was fucking joking…?”

Jorge went red and tried to shrug, both of us staring intently as the expressions on the Brit's face changed.

“Well…this is fucking complicated.” Cal looked bemused, doubtful and mischievous at the same time as he stared at us.

The Mallorcan looked at him, hard, as if willing him to not take part. Cal, being Cal, ignored him completely.

“What’s complicated?” I tried to shrug it off.

“Ok ok, come on. How long has this been going on?” Cal motioned gleefully to the two of us, sat frozen and incredibly tense.

“Nothing going on.” Jorge’s foot started tapping nervously on the floor.

“Really? I mean… really?”

I nodded. “Yeah. Really.”

The Supersport champion studied us with narrowed eyes. “Ok. So…” He pointed at Jorge. “You, you like her.” He nodded and shrugged casually. Casually to the naked eye. Not so casually to me.

“Yes. Of course. Everybody likes her.”

Cal’s eyes narrowed further. 

“No, I mean… you two…”

I saw them all staring at me.

I sighed and hit launch. “No. Nothing happening. There has been nothing happening, but that… it is still… complicated...” I looked wearily at Cal and gave up. “This could really hurt people. Especially Valentino. He’s not going to like what… might happen..”

Jorge looked at me sideways. “¿Estás hablando de mí?”

I looked at him and raised my hands. “¿Qué piensas? ¿Qué te dije? ”

His foot started tapping on the floor again and I glared at it. “Bueno. Es que...no... ¿Qué vamos a hacer? ¿Qué quieres que pase?”

I was conscious of the anglophone eyes trying to measure up the body language and words they didn’t understand, me just staring at him with a little more excited hope. 

“Por el amor de Dios, Jorge. Desde el momento en que te ví…” I held my hands up in frustration at the nerves on his face. “Si. No sé. Es complicado. Pero lo que sí sé, es que…hay solo una razón por la que todavía estoy aquí, después de lo que ha pasado hoy. Tú. ¿Vale?”

I realised how unfortunate the word _vale_ was in Spanish as I measured the Stoner/Crutchlow eye narrowing.

He sat still, finally, and met Cal’s gaze. I saw him start to smile, then grin, then look back at me, slightly arrogant smirk still burning, changing to childish excitement as his eyes met mine.

“Ok.”

“Ok?”

“¿Duerme en mi _motorhome_ esta noche? Para…hablar de…todo ¿vale?”

I nodded and returned the smile, everything suddenly hitting me as _possible_. _Ok. Smooth_. “Vale.”

He suddenly smiled wickedly at me as the moment suspended, mid-air. “¿Cúantos hijos quieres tener?”

I spluttered, laughed nervously as I went red and covered my face with my palms, slightly peeping through at him. “De verdad. No me jodas.”

“Me parece un problema, si no jodemos, ¿no? ¿Cero?” That cheeky grin.

My eyes widened and I started going red and shaking my head in extreme but unnecessary embarrassment, giggling but blown away by the gravity of the ‘joke’ and everything my brain wanted to make it mean. _Thank God they don’t understand this_. “¡Ciérrate la boca!”

Cal cleared his throat. “Ok enough, come on. We’re dying here.”

Jorge shrugged at him, all casual smoothness. “We have to…how do you say…adopt!”

His face was priceless.

The Mallorcan laughed and looked sideways at me. “No fucking, she says.”

I groaned and laughed. “Por Dios, please stop, ok?”

He shrugged mischievously and sent a wild-eyed stare around the room in reply to everyone’s _I think I got what just happened but confirmation would be nice_ faces, before leaning in and taking a kiss just far enough for me to understand _a lot_ but not so far as to traumatize the others in the room, leaving me breathless and suddenly realizing that this, at least, was real. And he had the same look on his face. 

“Tonight she sleeps in my motorhome and we discuss what to do.”

Cal and Casey exchanged glances before the Australian looked at me. “Is that a good idea?”

I shrugged. “What is the other option? I can’t just go home right now, can I? And we do need to talk. Alone…”

“Ok, woah woah woah.” Cal held up his hands and stared at us, not angry, just confused. “Are you fucking serious?”

“About what?”

“You’re jumping into bed together an hour after you jumped out of bed with Vale.”

I narrowed my eyes at him slightly. “Like I said. He did that. It wasn’t real. And why do you assume in bed?!”

Cal pointed between us, ignoring the somewhat stupidly innocent question. “But…”

Jorge looked at him, challenge evident but not too aggressive. “Yeah?”

“It’s just…well. You don’t exactly know each other very well, do you? To be doing all…this.”

Jorge passed Cal his phone. “Look.”

Cal took it and shrugged at him. “What am I looking at?”

“Open the messages. Top thread.”

Cal did and he scrolled and scrolled and scrolled until he finally shrugged and passed the phone back. “So it’s not a new thing.”

Jorge shook his head. “No. Not a new thing. At all. It was just...friends. But...not anymore. Right?”

He still looked incredibly nervous and I smiled and nodded, finding it strange but endearing to see the most swaggering rider on the grid looking at me like that. 

Casey got to his feet and wandered his now empty cup back over to the sink, everyone taking a moment to remember his presence, eyes following him. “I understand that you’re all happy and everything but really, this seems a bit suicidal.”

Jorge looked at me, trying to measure my reaction. I held my hands up in defense and looked at the Australian. “Look, there’s no good way of doing this, is there? Either we explain everything and leave Valentino in the shit with his rumours and…feelings, or we leave ourselves in the shit. What would he do? Really...?”

Jorge nodded and looked at Cal to see if he agreed. The Brit nodded with an expression that said _hands = tied_. “I guess someone is going to get hurt. Either image, or personally… or both. Is it worth it?”

We looked back at him with the same ‘well, obviously’ face and he looked at us both long and hard. “No, seriously. Think about it…this is it.”

I nodded at him and looked back at Jorge. “I know.”

“I know.” He shrugged and started to get to his feet, eyes not leaving mine. “Practice tomorrow. It’s late. We should go.”

The pronoun _we_ sounded strange. I got up instinctively to follow, and came face to face with Casey.

“If you’re sure, then ok. But honestly…this feels like a stupid decision.” The Australian’s eyes locked onto mine and searched for whatever would allow him to allow me to leave with Jorge. Apparently, he found it.

I sighed at him. “I know that, and I don’t really care. It’s going to be a fuck up. But it’s always better to experience a fuck up with the right person, right?” I grabbed him into a hug before he could answer and squeezed. “Thank you so much for everything, Casey…”

“Goodnight!” 

He smiled as Jorge yanked me past him, the Mallorcan evidently done with advice he didn’t like, and barreled us towards the door, having had enough of the bad omens. “Calvin, BAG.” 

Cal looked at him as though he was mad but passed my bag over, Jorge hooking it on one arm and opening the door with the other, dragging me back outside and turning back to the faces framed in the door, still walking, but backwards, waving goodnight.

“Night. See you tomorrow.”

Casey and Cal watched like parents waving evacuees off on a wartime platform, exchanging words we couldn't hear very well after the last word we'd shared, still the focus of our attention as though to turn round and walk off was a big step, and was crossing a bridge.

“Goodnight!”


	4. 129 Days

We walked in silence for a few more steps before I felt a hand grab mine. “You sure about this?”

I squeezed in response and got a squeeze in return, the gesture feeling like the most natural but exciting thing in the world, but also making me extremely nervous. “Yes. Very. But...I think we should…keep it cool in public, ok?” I gently freed my hand from his and refused to acknowledge the expression of irritation. He stopped and shook his head, refusing the refusal.

“No, come on…I mean, you think we can keep this a secret? What if I win on Sunday, hmm? What if I’m on pole? Can’t I share that with you? Because if you say no, I’m going to strip naked and run down the pit lane.” He grinned and made up the space between us to stare down at me and raise his eyebrows. "Promise..."

I raised an eyebrow at him and glanced around to check no one else was around, before leaning up to whisper in his ear. “Promise?”

He shivered slightly and glared at me in pleasure and pain, the game less fun than the late night reality. “Don’t.”

I smiled then nodded. “I know, you’re right. We have to just…get through tonight and tomorrow morning first, ok?”

He pulled me in for a hug and I buried my face in his jacket, then groaned as he gave me what I imagined was supposed to be a gentle squeeze. “Owwwwwwwwwwwww.”

“Shit, sorry…are you ok? It sill hurts?”

I exaggerated my nod and smiled. “You hit me with a bottle. It’s going to hurt for a while.”

We found ourselves outside his door, and unfortunately, some of those words were very true.

*

“What are you doing?”

I froze.

 _This is it. Just brave it out_. Vale’s door, next door, banged on its hinges.

 _Calm, calm and...calm._ “I’m going to stay with a friend until my flight back on Monday." Deep breath and a silent prayer for him to not feel the pain he must have been feeling. "Him.”

I looked at Valentino but kept my attention on Jorge, frozen with his hand on the door handle, looking between us, obviously holding my bag, me behind him, obviously about to follow him inside.

If thunder was a facial expression, I saw it then for the first time.

“WHAT?”

“What?” I tried to shrug it off and was grateful the darkness was (hopefully) hiding the red flushing my cheeks.

“What?!” Valentino launched himself down the steps and started yelling in Italian, Jorge understanding, me not.

“Hey, woah, woah, woah…” The Mallorcan put my bag on the floor and walked around me towards his team mate. “Don’t speak to her like that.”

The angry gesticulating continued from the Italian and I could see the space in between them diminishing, Jorge’s jaw grinding together as he listened, zooming in on each other, angry but showing it in very different ways. I closed my eyes, sighed, and stepped in between them, facing Vale and telling Jorge to wait for me inside, impressed he left the chauvinism behind and did so. I waited a couple of seconds before the door opened, then shut, and then the curtains were pulled open and I could see him watching from inside, arms folded, like a coiled spring. I faced Vale and tried to take a deep breath and remember who he was to me when he wasn’t ‘the person in the way’.

“I don’t care what you’re saying about me.”

His eyes looked hurt, but still angry.

“I care about you, and I always will. But you can’t be jealous when someone is a free person. And don’t blame him. I can’t just refuse what I feel.”

"So you do feel something, and he's not a _friend_. Yes?"

 _Fuck._ "Hmm...yes. Sorry. But yes."

"'ow long has been happening?"

"It's not 'happening'. I think now it is, but before...never. I talked to him a lot but there was no...'fake cheating'. EVER."

"I don't believe you."

"I thought you loved me."

He gave a bitter laugh and nodded. "Yeah, me also. What a _fool_ , eh?"

I bit my lip to try and keep all my emotions locked up for the moment. "Don't. Please. Believe me, I am so, so sorry...and one day someone is going to be very, very lucky to have you, and you're going to love how much she loves you. But it's not me."

He glowered at me and shot a withering look through the window to where he could see the outline of his teammate, ignoring the little speech. “But he is a bad person.”

I smiled at him sadly and released the unfortunately clichéd truth into the wild, giving up for now on trying to make it better. “He’s one of the best people I’ve ever met.”

And that was it. Something was immediately shut off, his eyes avoided mine and he walked back to his door, not even looking back as he signed off. 

“Fine. You’re a fool. Good luck.”

*

Once inside, I melted down onto the chair and pulled my knees up to my chin, looking up at where the other Yamaha rider was now standing over me.

“That was painful.”

He nodded and unzipped his jacket, face searching mine for whatever he was looking for. “Regrets?”

I looked at him disapprovingly and shook my head. “No. Well…not you. I regret that it’s like this...”

“Good.” He smiled and nodded, understanding and happy with the first part at least, motioning around the room. “Ok, it’s… 12.09am. What are we doing?”

I shrugged and felt my eyelids droop. “Sleep. Talk tomorrow?”

He nodded, both of us suddenly realising we were alone in his motorhome, everything we'd evidently both been wanting for a while, and were just going to go to sleep. “I’m tired too.”

I pulled myself back onto my feet, intending to go to the bathroom and finding my way blocked. He stood there and looked at me hopefully and questioningly, eyes boring into mine. I smiled and shook my head.

“It’s been a long day, _do not_ look at me like that.”

He smiled and winked. “I think your mind is playing tricks on you.”

I shook my head again and put up a warning finger, which he attempted to bite. “No, it is not and you know it. Let’s just… sort out tomorrow and then sleep, please?”

He shrugged and kicked off his shoes. “So…tomorrow. What do we say? To everybody?”

“Well…we can’t give some sort of weird press-release. But I guess we have to tell Yamaha. Unless Valentino does it for us.”

He nodded and I watched the options spin around in his head. “So, team meeting?”

I shrugged. “Is that creating a show?”

He shook his head. “It’s being honest, no?”

I shrugged again. “What is honest?”

He smiled. “That you will be in my side of the garage?”

I nodded and yawned. “Hmm. Something like that. Let’s see how it goes.”

He yawned in response but looked worried. “Let’s see how it goes?”

“The conversation. Not…this.”

Relief engulfed the aftermath of the yawn and he turned and walked towards the bedroom. “Ok. Well..I’ll be… in here.”

“Wait.”

He turned round and looked at me, still seemingly worried I was about to run off or back out. “What?”

I motioned him back over and he followed. “Is it weird how casual this has been? Like, some jokes about children, then just…like a business meeting?”

He frowned at me and put his arms round my waist. “Are we in a rush?”

I smiled slightly and shook my head. “No. That’s what you’re thinking too?”

He nodded and planted a kiss on my forehead, resting his chin on the top of my head. “We have a long, long time to do whatever we want. Tomorrow we only have one chance for…dealing with Step 1. And…believe me, it’s fucking difficult to not just jump on you right now.” He grinned and wiggled his eyebrows as my facial expression said the same thing. “But practice tomorrow, and it’s late.”

“Ok, good. I like how you know I understand that.” 

“I like how you know that I know.” He pulled away and walked back down to the bedroom, looking over his shoulder and smiling as he disappeared. “I’ll be waiting…”

I nodded despite knowing he couldn’t see me and pulled my pyjamas out of my bag, immediately realizing a problem. Someone had cleaned up Vale’s motorhome, and put the wrong t-shirt back in my bag. I groaned and got undressed anyway whilst I decided what to do, before deciding to just wear it anyway. I went in the bathroom and brushed my teeth, spending a few minutes taking off eyeliner, and then nervously padded down to the bedroom in bare feet. Faint snoring was coming from inside. I peeked round the door and giggled slightly, hand to my mouth to be quiet. He was tucked in, lamp on, and had obviously been attempting to read before falling asleep, book open and abandoned on his chest. _Exemplary scholar_. I crossed the room and got into the other side of the bed, trying not to disturb him. There was a soft grunt and he jolted awake again.

“Sorry. I tried to be gentle.” 

He looked down at the book and then back at me, bleary-eyed and confused as to the situation. “Don’t worry.” He put the book on the table and turned over slightly, lying on his side facing me. I pointed at the Rossi shirt.

“I think the cleaner put the wrong one in my bag.”

He shrugged and turned round to turn off the light and I snuggled further into the sheets.

“Mine’s a Biaggi t shirt.”

He laughed after a short pause and prodded me slightly under the sheet.

“Goodnight.”

I stayed where I was, on my side, facing away from him, and wondered if anything would happen. A few minutes of calm, quiet breathing passed before I felt a finger run its way down my back.

“Are you still awake?”

The whisper made me smile. “Yeah. Why are you whispering?”

“Don’t know.” Granted, normal speech did sound loud. “Can I ask a weird question?”

“Yeah..?”

“Can you change that t-shirt?”

I turned back over to lying flat and sighed. “Why?”

“Because it doesn’t smell like you.”

“Have you been smelling me?” I smiled in the dark and grabbed a handful of fabric, sniffing. _Hmm. Actually true._ “What are _you_ wearing?” _Subtext: anything?_

“Boxers.”

“Me too. Female version. Ok, fine.” I sat up, pulled the t shirt over my head and lay back down on my side, facing away from him. The noise of the t shirt hitting the floor and the exploratory hand that found bare skin was met with the approval of a very quiet _‘ooh.’_

“Thanks.” The hand didn’t move.

"No problem." I grinned in the dark and took a deep breath, trying to make the reality sink in. "Do you...do you think Vale will say anything to anyone?"

"No." The response was quick and definitive. "He knows you know the truth. If he doesn't say anything, me and you are the bad guy."

"Are we the bad guy?"

"No."

 _Ok. That's that part of the conversation over then._ A finger moved from my shoulder and traced a path down my spine before hovering over my hip and becoming a whole hand, looking for mine. I caught it before it went too far and laced my fingers through his, pulling him in slightly and relaxing as I felt a faint kiss planted on the back of my head.

“I’m going to try and sleep now despite the fact that I have never been this turned on in my life.”

I turned my head into the pillow and muffled a laugh. “Ok. Today is for sleeping, tomorrow is for that.”

“Is that a promise?”

I unhooked my hand and turned around to face him. “Yes. Where’s your face?” I poked where I thought it would be and found a cheek, then found myself with a wet finger. “Did you stick out your tongue…?”

“Yep.” I could hear the cheeky grin that was obviously hidden by the dark.

I decided that aiming and missing a kiss was better than attempting to lean past and hit the light, so I leaned closer and found the target. A long, slow moan echoed through the room and a hand crept it’s way around me to the small of my back before he spoke again. 

“129 days.”

“What’s that?”

“How long I’ve been wanting to do that.”


	5. We'll Let You Know

I turned over and came face to face with a sleeping face, whose eyes slowly opened too.

“Morning.” I smiled and waited for the awake-ness to register, me having already gone through the _where am I? HOLY FUCK!_ part of the situation we were in.

“Mojbasugdijb.”

I laughed at the noise and gently poked a rib, eliciting a slight groan. “Wake up. Wake up. Wake up.”

His eyes shot open fully and stared at me, cloudily confused, then blissfully happy. “Morning.”

I smiled and planted a quick kiss on his lips, pulling away to see the expression on his face. “What?”

“I forgot.”

“You forgot?!”

He nodded and pulled me in so there was no space left between us. “I forgot you’d be here.” The words got lost in my hair but I just about caught them. “I thought it might have been a dream.”

“Awwwwwwwww.” I pouted at him and pinched his cheek. “Sparta went all soft.”

He smiled and struggled into a sitting position, stretching his back out and groaning. “Urgh. What time is it?”

 _Even elite athletes groan when they wake up._ I glanced behind me at the clock. “7.10.”

“Urgh. Right.” He reached out for his phone and looked at me. “What shall I say? Team meeting, 8 o’clock?”

I shrugged and nodded. “Fine with me. Make sure you don’t invite Vale.” 

He raised an eyebrow. “Pff. You should have heard what he was saying!”

“I just mean, make sure they know not to bring him in. And I don’t want to.”

“Ok, ok. I will.” He typed out the message and pressed send before throwing the covers back and getting out, accepting despite his obvious desire to translate. “Ok…shower? I’ll shower after qualifying.”

I shook my head. “Me too. I want food.” I looked him up and down and smirked. “And THAT.”

He wagged a _naughty naughty_ finger at me and shook his head mischievously before answering the question properly. “That might be a bit difficult. The food part. The other part will be very easy tonight.” 

I grinned and nodded, before registering the food problem. “Why?”

“Because it’s all in the hospitality.”

“Ah.” I watched him pull out his phone again and dial someone. “Morning, Cal.” There was a muffled groan down the line. “We need you to have breakfast with us.” More noise, but that sounded more positive. “Now…in 10 minutes?” More noise. “Ok, thanks.”

He turned back to me and smiled. “Sorted. Now the only thing we need to do is get out before anyone sees…” He turned around and opened the wardrobe, pulling on a Yamaha t-shirt and jeans. I watched and realized I was going to have to get up as well. I threw the covers back and got out, walking over to my bag and pulling things out of it until I found what I was looking for. I threw the clothes on to the bed and turned round to find I was being stared at.

“What?”

“What do you mean, what? That’s the first time I’ve seen you in daylight. You can’t walk around half naked and think I won’t look.” 

I rolled my eyes and shrugged slightly. “I’m not shy.”

He nodded and smiled. “I noticed. I’m glad.” He took out his phone and looked at me hopefully. “Can I take a picture of your tattoo?”

I nodded and pulled my hair up as I turned round, then heard the click of the shutter and grabbed the bra and t shirt, putting them on and grudgingly pulling my jeans up. “You can take a picture of whatever you want.”

He went slightly red and grinned. “In that case, I will. Ready?”

I shook my head and pointed at my face. “Few minutes. I am a girl. Under all the…petrol and…stuff…” He nodded knowingly and tracked me with his eyes as I went into the bathroom and brushed my hair, did the best job of makeup in 3 minutes and dumped the bag back in the bedroom, Jorge standing up and pocketing his phone, trying to pretend he hadn’t been peeping. “Ok, let’s go.”

“Ok.”

We walked down to the door and he opened the curtains to see if anyone was around.

“Who’s out there?”

He squinted and counted. “Cal, waiting. Some Ducati mechanics.”

I shrugged and prepared to go. “Could be worse.” He nodded agreement but grabbed my hand to stop me opening the door. “Wait.”

He pulled me in close and wrapped himself around me. “I know maybe last night wasn’t what we wanted...”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean… well. I had different ideas about…this.”

I pulled away slightly for eye contact. “You did?”

He nodded and a smile played at the corner of his mouth. “Didn’t you think about it?”

I let myself grin at him and nodded. “Ok, yes. Maybe.”

He smiled and nodded. “Well…I had actually thought ‘If I win on Sunday, I have to tell her how I feel.’” His hand moved down my back and found its way under my t shirt, sending very un-breakfast friendly shivers up and down my spine. “And I was going to try and get some of the team to keep Vale busy, and I’d said I was going to go into the city and have a night…undercover? But actually… I wanted to take you somewhere, and tell you.” He pulled the other arm away and opened the cupboard behind us, pointed at the helmet inside. “That’s my helmet from Jerez. And you were going to wear that, we were going to ride for a bit, hopefully, and then I was going to tell you. Because-”

“Jerez? You … did… do you remember that like I do?”

He nodded and pulled away to make sure I got the full force of the _obviously, don’t be a dick!_ expression. “Yeah! I remember you were all stressed about the event coming up, looking at posters, and you’d got glasses on, and your hair was all piled on your head.” He ran his fingers through my hair and twisted it upwards. “And you were talking to someone, in very good Spanish. Something had gone wrong, and you were trying to figure out what to do. You were concentrating so hard you didn’t notice we were there. I remember that after a while you caught a glimpse of me and Valentino across the room, and you looked away and went slightly red. Then you looked back at me. It must have been 5 or 6 seconds where you stared at me.”

I nodded. “I remember that. I was really distracted. Then I noticed you…”

He let go of my hair and it fell back down around my shoulders. “And that was it.”

I stared at him again, for maybe 5 or 6 seconds. “I-…”

His eyes crinkled into a smile and shook his head, not finished. “Tonight…even if I’m 20th on the timesheets, we’re going to celebrate, ok?”

“Ok. Sounds good.” 

“And…when you didn’t let me finish, I was going to say…I don’t know what happened…or why now, but I suddenly _had_ to tell you. Did you feel that? Before the whole Valentino situation?”

I stared up at him and nodded, slowly, feeling strange being so emotionally honest early in the morning and with no alcohol added, not Spanish enough to be unembarrassed. “I know what you mean. I think…I just think it was too long. Waiting. Not knowing…so you were going to steal me?”

He somehow managed to frown and grin at the same time. “No! I was just going to tell you, so you could decide. But _apparently_ …you’re a massive liar and it was me all along.” He widened his eyes and bit his lip, amused by his own cheek. 

“Well…” I narrowed my eyes before smiling and nodding, leaning up for a kiss. “It was you all along, but you don’t have to be so arrogant about it.”

I opened the door as nonchalantly as possible before creating as big a gap between me and the motorhome as I could, walking over to Cal and hearing the Lorenzo complaints fading behind me, smiling at the protestations.

“Morning.”

Cal grinned at me and pulled me into a brief hug. “Good morning…” He wiggled his eyebrows at me. “So..?”

I shook my head and laughed. “No. And if yes, I wouldn’t tell you.”

He pouted and looked back at the door as it opened to reveal Jorge. “So what’s the plan today then?”

I shrugged and waited until he’d caught up. “Tell the team.”

“Tell them? So…when you say ‘no’, you’re assuming I was asking if you fucked him?”

I went slightly red and shrugged. “Ok…yeah. Oops. If you’re asking whether it’s a thing…still…then yeah.”

Cal made an ‘oof’ noise and widened his eyes, happy and afraid, like me. “Well…good luck with that.”

We exchanged glances as we entered the Yamaha hospitality. Cal wasn’t strictly allowed, but nobody seemed to care. I’d seen him in there more times than Jorge. We sat down at a 4 table and my breath caught in my throat as Valentino walked in, Uccio right behind him. I tracked him over to the other side of the room and watched as he laughed and joked his way through a coffee. _Fair play. Either you’re hiding it well, or you’re not that bothered_. I looked up into Jorge’s expectant face.

“What? Did you ask me something?”

“What do you want?” His eyes tracked to where mine had been pointing and a flash of jealousy flashed through them.

“Coffee and a croissant, please.”

He nodded approval but went for eggs, Cal doing the same, the Brit going through the same realizing of who I’d been looking at. No one seemed to notice us. No one commented on either the ‘break up’ or the fact that I was still there. Eventually, 8am arrived.

“Ok…show time. You ready?” I nodded as Jorge got to his feet and looked down at Cal. “Thanks for the help.”

The Tech3 rider shrugged and smiled. “No problem, good luck mate.” 

I got to my feet as well and followed Jorge out the room, glancing back at Cal in the same sort of _thank you_. We turned the corner and he pointed at a door.

“Ok…ready?”

I nodded and quickly leaned up to peck him on the cheek, just as Valentino walked around the corner. He stopped dead, glared at his team mate, and completely ignored me as he walked on. I sighed and looked at the floor, more painful than I wanted to admit. Jorge seemed to feel it and repeated my sigh.

“Ok, look…” Jorge tilted my chin up for eye contact. “Fuck everything. Let’s do this.” I held his gaze and nodded slightly. “Ok? I know it’s horrible…I saw you looking…”

“Yeah, I saw you see. Sorry. It’s not…you know, whatever you might think...it’s not a break up, but it’s pretty close. He was a big part of my life, you know?”

He nodded and shrugged, slightly bothered but not so insecure as to have a fit about it. “Ok. I understand. Well…no.” He smiled at my worry and nodded. “I’m _trying_ to understand. Ok?”

I nodded before he opened the door and walked inside, waving a nonchalant _morning guys_ and waiting for me. I stepped inside and watched as many pairs of eyes swiveled to look at me, some curious, some friendly. Lin looked at Jorge. “Did you call a team meeting to talk about Riders for Health stuff? Before practice?” The way he said it made it seem like Jorge was known globally for his over-zealous use of the ‘team meeting’.

He looked at me and smiled slightly as he waited for me to join him leant against a table, sharing a look that had more in it than _good morning_. “Not exactly.”

More confused faces looked at us. _How the hell do you take this conversation forward without it sounding like you’ve brought me home to meet your parents?!_

He didn't say anything so I cleared my throat. “Ok, so… background information. Me and Valentino were not a real couple.” Everybody looked back at me and a slight gasp went round as I figured out how to say it. “He hated the rumours of him being gay. So I came to …give him some space. So, everyone probably knows that Valentino ‘broke up with me’ last night. But my flight home isn’t until Monday. So I’ll be hanging around with you guys if that’s ok?” Murmured yes’s went round on the faces confused why this merited a team meeting, called by Lorenzo, and Jorge looked at me and narrowed his eyes, as if to say _no, I am not chickening out there_. I nodded resignedly and shrugged, like _go for it_.

He stood up straight and stopped slouching against the table. “So…you look confused, but you see the problem is…” He trailed off and turned round to look at me, then held out his hand. I took it, he pulled me in closer, and then went for it. “We _are_ a real couple.” My face started burning, and the gasps sounded like a gas pipeline explosion. We stood frozen for a few seconds for everyone to process it before I looked around the room and assessed the damage. It was mainly positive, quite shocked, but no one had thrown rotten fruit and vegetables. 

Lin ran his hands over his face in a gesture that, to me, said _for fuck’s sake Jorge. Why can’t you make life easy?_ “Ok, ok stop.” He pointed between us. “Is this a joke?”

We shook our heads and Jorge smirked. “We can do more, if you’re needing proof…”

Lin sighed and glowered at him. “Ok…this is a real fuck up.” Everyone nodded. “One thing I have to ask before we go any further with this is: are you serious? Because you can’t fuck about with my garage if it’s going to be over by Monday.”

Jorge frowned at him and shook his head. “I’m serious. I’m very serious. It’s not a new thing…” He saw the raised eyebrows return. “What I mean is, no… we’ve not been ‘cheating’ on Valentino…although that was all a lie, ok? But...” He looked at me slightly flustered. “I decided this had to happen in Barcelona.”

“That night when you let Cal ‘walk you home’ and he dumped you in Valentino’s room?”

Jorge laughed and nodded. “Yeah.”

Lin coughed and looked at us. “Ok, ok…so…It doesn’t seem to me like you’ve done anything wrong. Is Valentino reasonably ok with it? Other than the PR disaster we'll have to sort somehow?”

We exchanged glances and I shook my head. “Erm…No.”

Lin held my gaze expectantly and I bit my lip trying to figure out how to say it. “Well…we did a really good job of pretending and… he started to believe it.”

Another round of _oh, for fuck’s sake_ expressions went around.

“So, the situation is you either pretend that you did leave Valentino for Jorge, or you break his heart _and_ his image at once?”

I nodded and shrugged, not really having considered it as so black and white, _the future_ a liquid concept, feeling the daunting nature of that sink in. _I guess so._

Jorge looked at his watch and back at me, uninterested in the moral opinion in the room. “I need to go and find Ricky, now…you come with me?”

I shrugged and nodded. “Yeah…if that’s ok?”

He nodded and turned back to Lin, who didn’t look pleased with the idea of the conversation being over. “Ok?”

“Yes, fantastic.” He sighed sarcastically and looked round at a few of his colleagues. “Ok, so…say nothing to media, ignore that it’s happening, see what happens…let’s do our jobs.”

“Perfect.” Jorge patted him on the back on the way out, calling back over his shoulder. “But if anyone lets _the Italian_ into my side of the garage, I will go home.”

The door banged slightly after him and I stood staring at them for a second, shrugging, figuring out how to explain that the problems were now vice-versa. “It’s that… last night…it wasn’t good. They were…” I knocked my knuckles together softly and raised my eyebrows. _Fighting._ “Almost..”

Juan looked at me and sighed. “Ok. I’m going to ask you and I don’t want you to be offended, but…are you serious? Because if you fuck around with him it’s going to be a big, big problem. For the team, for us…for me. And for him.”

I smiled at the warning, friendly but edged with a definitive sprinkling of dead serious, and nodded. “Since I first met him I’ve been convincing myself I didn’t care. But it was important. And…it may seem quick, but I’ve known him a long time now and I’ve talked to him about anything and everything. And he does the same with me. So…it’s too late anyway. I know everything I could have known to fuck things up. And I haven’t, and I never will. I promise.” I sighed and wondered how it had become a speech. “I really, really understand how bad this is, or how bad it looks. But I was helping out a friend, and then I got to know _him_. What can I do?”

“But the friend was _Valentino Rossi._ ”

“Yeah, it was. Maybe it will be again, if he ever talks to me again. I left my job to make things easier for Vale. I did my bit really well, and we had fun. It’s not my fault that he feels more. And it’s not Jorge’s or my fault that we…are…”

“Are…?”

I waved my hands slightly and shrugged, no concrete answer. “We’ve not talked about it yet. When we do, we’ll let you know.”


	6. Dear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorrrrry it's been a while!
> 
> I've been too distracted recently...but hopefully I'll update tomorrow again :)
> 
> Thank you for reading/hopefully enjoying/everything :)

I wandered around the paddock for a while as Jorge sat in the garage waiting for practice, then a while longer as Jorge took part in practice. The team had convinced him that I should try and stay below the radar at least as long as possible, something I wholeheartedly agreed with, so I was at a loose end. 

The sound of engines firing up flared from the pits and I smiled as I actually felt myself begin to invest in the idea of everything. _This is real._ I grinned to myself and tried to ignore some of the more obvious _what is she still doing here_ looks from various people, groaning as someone fell into step beside me and I recognized the shadow. “You.”

“ME!” Scott grinned and put his arm round my shoulders, just cheeky enough to try it and tall enough to get away with it for a few seconds before I could escape. “How’s it going? Still here?”

“So you know.”

“I do.” He nodded and smiled again. “But before you think I’m being an insensitive prick, someone told me that you weren’t upset and it was for the best.”

“Ok. Good. I was wondering why you were so fucking chirpy.”

“I’m usually chirpy. Especially around beautiful women.”

“Thank you.” I rolled my eyes and smiled. “You’re really doing this? The day after?” _The irony._

“Doing what?”

“Flirting like an Italian waiter.”

“Hmm…yeah. Sorry.” He looked happily sheepish and shrugged. “But…if you don’t try, you don’t know.”

“Oh, I’m a shot in the dark, eh? I’m flattered.” 

“Hey! I didn’t mean it like that. I meant…you’re worth it. The effort. Try not to be so mean…”

“Says YOU.” I stuck out my tongue slightly and fake glared at him. “Ok. Thank you. But watch your hands. And remember how old you are.”

“But I’m very experienced…” He winked and pulled me to a stop as he did, our paths obviously about to go in different directions. “But seriously…you’re staying for the race?”

I nodded and shrugged. “Yeah.”

“Good. Cheering for me, now?”

“I always cheered for you!”

“Oh! Well thanks…didn’t know that.”

“Yeah! You, then Pol and Marc…and Andrea…”

“I’m not sure that counts.” He pouted then grinned again. “But that’s ok. I’ll get over it.”

“Good. You’re worth it too.” 

He went slightly red and the _experience_ came under fire. “So…where are you going to watch the race from?”

“From the box?” I stared at him as though it was obvious and then immediately realised the mistake. _Fuck._ He did too and frowned.

“From Yamaha?”

_That saves a lot of hassle._ “Yeah…Yamaha.” _Just the other side._

“Oh, ok. Right…I need to go. Because I’m a Moto2 rider so I can’t just stand here chatting all day…” He rolled his eyes slightly as though it was my fault and then grinned. “I’ll see you later, anyway. Have a good one.”

“You too.” I sighed slightly and watched him go. _Would you say the same thing if you knew?_ I thought about it for a second and decided probably yes. Him at least. And a few others. Whether they would ever find out that it wasn’t a case of steal and run away, I didn’t know. But some people I would tell. _And he could be one of them._

I did a quick count of who knew. My best friend was one, and she’d known for a while that it was complicated, at least. Casey was the second person who had any clue. Cal knew, which could prove risky. And then…me, and Jorge.

_And Valentino._

I sighed and looked up at the sky for a few seconds, squinting even behind sunglasses, and listened to the sound of what was very obviously a Ducati heading down the pit lane.

_Valentino. Gone._

It made me sad, not just because I’d hurt him, but because he’d taken me on an amazing rollercoaster that was now ending in spectacularly disappointing fashion. I had left my job, and done my part, but the thrill of just following the greatest of all time over months had been incredible. I looked down as my phone beeped, part of me thinking maybe this was God’s moment to prove his existence and it be Vale. It wasn’t.

Nicky: _Hey…so I heard what happened…are you still here? I’m out for this session and nothing to debrief. Crashed and broke my finger :( (sympathy please)_

I smiled down at the phone and typed a quick ‘yes’ and my location, the American appearing magically a few seconds later and grinning at me.

“Hi.”

“Hello! Broken finger?”

“Yup.” He held up his bandaged hand and his bottom lip jutted out. “Wasn’t even my fault. But, I guess that’s how it goes…”

“Yeah.” _Things just happen._ “So…why me? I’m flattered…but don’t you have any friends?” I grinned at him and shrugged.

He cast me a glare and then smiled. “I got friends, thanks. I thought you were one…”

_Awww._ “Sorry. I saw Scott Redding…even he told me to be less mean. So I will. And yeah I’d hope I am.”

“Yeah I think so.” He grinned at me and pointed back towards the garages. “So you want to watch? Or…why aren’t you watching? I know you broke up, but-“

“It’s…complicated. But for today anyway, I’m here but I’m keeping a distance…”

“Ah ok. I thought you’d be gone. Must hurt, right?”

“It’s…no. It’s for the best. Although it won’t seem that way...”

“Well…doesn’t matter how it seems, you know? People always talk shit about you even when you’re a saint.”

“You have no idea how accurate that is right now, but thanks. And…” I trailed off and looked at the expression on his face. “No…I’m not explaining. You’ll find out. And when you do find out, think about what you just said. And me. Please?”

“This got pretty serious pretty quick.”

_Again, incredible irony._ “Yeah, it really did!” I laughed and shrugged, pointing over at Ducati hospitality. “You want to get a drink or something?”

“If I didn’t know you better I’d say that’s a really bad line.”

“It is. But you’re safe. Promise.”

“Promise?”

“More than promise.”

“You’re not going to explain that either are you?”

I grinned across at him, the Ducati rider still pouting at the finger but mischievously twinkling over the conversation, and put on my best Kentucky. “No Sir, I ain’t.”

*

I knew I shouldn’t be making hints about anything to anyone. But, if it was going to break, and it would, more than just Valentino being hurt, I was worried about everyone else I’d come to know just turning their back.

_And they probably wouldn’t do that the other way round._

If I was going to leave Jorge for Vale, there would be a lot more smiles. _Because charm seems to buy you more than honesty._ I tried not to get too bitter about it and was immediately dragged up from the abyss when my phone pinged, again. Text.

Jorge: _Motorhome, 10 minutes. Lunch!_

I smiled at it and then rolled my eyes slightly, about to respond something about the complete lack of question, when it went again.

Jorge: _Sorry…I meant to say “Would you like to meet in my motorhome for lunch in 10 minutes?” xx_

I grinned and nodded to myself as I typed the reply: _You have such good manners, George. ;) (Yes!) x_

_Kisses. Nice._

It still hadn’t really sunk in that that was normal. That ‘breaking up’ with Valentino had actually meant going from single to the opposite.

Jorge: _I put them by accident. I’ve done that a few times before ;) But you sent some back, so I’ll be honest… x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x_

I smiled like a lovesick puppy and actually looked around to check I wasn’t drooling, before figuring out how many there were.

Me: _Aw :D 99, right? Is that the target for tonight? ;)_

Me: _Ironically forgot… xxxxxxxx_

Jorge: _FORGOT?!! ;) Jaja :P_

I was just about to reply _Sorry but you know I love you so :P_ when I realised he didn’t know that at all.

_Probably not the best time to mention it. In a lunch break before FP2. Probably best to do that in ‘the conversation’. The ‘when we do, we’ll let you know’ conversation. That will be starting in…6 hours?_

I got a head start to the motorhome and let myself in with the key I’d been given, not many people around, most choosing hospitality, and sat down at the table, staring at the wall and feeling a strange mixture of at home and out of place. I eventually took off my jacket and made a coffee, sitting back down and about to call to find out where he was when a muffled _STOP!_ was yelled outside the door. I could hear him telling whoever he was with that he would take it from there, before the door opened and a grinning Mallorcan appeared with a tray full of food.

“I thought you’d be inside. It’s pasta. Ok?”

I locked eyes with him and smiled, enjoying the second instance of it in less than 15 minutes. “Are we past greetings?”

He put the tray down on the table and raised his eyebrows, happily offended. “Oh, I’m sorry. Hello, dear. I have brought you food. It is pasta. And if you don’t like pasta…you need to leave.”

_Dear._ I laughed and accepted a kiss as he sat next to me and passed me a fork. “It’s just funny. You were SOOO fucking polite for months, and then…BOOM. Not even a hello! Not trying to impress anymore?”

He grinned and shook his head, mouth slightly full, and grabbed the parmesan out of my hand before I could get any, putting it down out of my reach and giggling to himself.

“Fuck you, Jorge Lorenzo. I thought I _liked_ you.”

He swallowed what he was chewing, got to his feet and then walked the cheese around the table to my other side, bowing slightly and offering it to me through a grin. “Parmesan, dear. Please forgive me.”

_DEAR._ I took some, the fun suddenly replaced with something more genuine as we stared at each other, and laughed slightly to myself as he sat down next to me again, hand resting on my leg. _Dear._

“Can I do this?” He motioned down at his hand and locked eyes with me. “We’re…there?”

“Now we have too many manners.” I leaned in and kissed him quickly, hand guiding his slightly further up my leg and his fingers twisting into mine. “You can do that. You can do whatever you want. You can throw your lunch at me and lick it off me if you want.”

He raised his eyebrows and smiled before picking up a piece of pasta with his other hand and wagging it at me. “You know, if this was 6 hours later…I would.”

“Somehow I believe you.”

“Good.”

I bit the offending pasta out of his grip and wiggled my eyebrows. “If this was 6 hours later-“

“Ok stop. This is cruel.”

I laughed and shrugged. “I think the waiting will be worth it.”

“It already is.” Back to serious again. “It really, really is.” He squeezed my knee and smiled contentedly at his plate as I nodded in the corner of his eye. 

_I know._


	7. Reasonably Insane

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluffffffy!
> 
> Sorry I'm a day late! Not sure when I'll be updating again but it will be within a few days maximum :)
> 
> Enjoy! :)

I’d watched FP2 from his motorhome, since leaving was creating the same old problem of being seen going back in, and he’d been second behind Casey; Dani third. It was incredibly strange watching him on the screen and knowing he was so close, but that I wasn’t _there_ , and watching Valentino wave at the camera and grin was painful.

I’d not realised how nervous I would be, either. Having it as a reality had seemed to unlock my paranoia, and every lap I watched I was digging my fingers into the sofa praying he wouldn’t come off. He didn’t, but it made me realise how terrifying that was going to be. 20+ times a year, I was going to be petrified. 

_I will get used to it._

‘The conversation’, as it was in my head, was parts fear and excitement. I knew what I felt – what I’d almost accidentally texted him earlier – but I also knew, from some of the things he’d just mentioned, or the joke about the children – that in was seemingly _in_ , to him, and it was more than ‘I love you’; it was going to have to be ‘I love you and I want to spend my life with you’. Almost, or something close to that. And it had to be worth it, because it was going to be _bad_ to the outside world.

I thought about it a while longer until I found myself going between ecstatic excitement and complete terror every 2 minutes, excitement winning but not a walkover. The me of 2 or 3 years ago would have only been excited, because ‘Jorge Lorenzo’ as a concept was some sort of strange, detached idea that, if offered on a plate, would have been eaten in 2 minutes. But now, it wasn’t ‘Jorge Lorenzo MotoGP rider’ at all, it was someone called Jorge that I knew. And that made a hell of a difference, because it was something that could actually _work_. And when you know it might work, and it’s real, it’s suddenly not just telling yourself that’s what you’re trying to find, it’s looking down the barrel at it and knowing you could have it? That was fucking _insane._

He’d said he’d be back about 8, after whatever activities he’d been organised into, some of which were with Valentino, and I ended up curled in the bed watching random YouTube videos and flicking a Euro coin between my fingers as my brain worked through it in the background.

I must have drifted off, because I woke up at 8.26pm with my head on his chest and a football match in the background. I heard myself make a noise that made it obvious I’d woken up and found my chin tilted upwards.

“Hey.”

I frowned up at the grin, returning it as freshly as I could, hair just about out the way enough to allow eye contact. “Hey. Sorry.”

“Sorry?” He kissed the top of my head and the volume on the TV lowered slightly. “Don’t be sorry. I don’t think I’ve ever been this relaxed.”

I struggled slightly up to lean on one hand and watched him pout, smiling and trying to pat my hair down at the same time. “Urgh. I was. Now I’m awake I’m SO FUCKING HUNGRY.”

He laughed and nodded, picking up his phone and looking at me expectantly. “What do you want? I already ate. I texted you to tell you that, but you didn’t reply. Then I called you, and then I called you again and left a voicemail, then I panicked you might have left the track and _me_ , then Ricky came over and saw you asleep…he promised he didn’t watch you…”

I cringed and hung my head. “Oh. Sorry! And OH GOD.” I went slightly red and squinted at him. “I think I might trust him...”

“You can trust Ricky. But he did send me a picture.” He held up the screen, giggling, and I groaned again. 

“Great.”

Jorge laughed and pulled me down to where I had been before. “It’s cute, don’t worry. Now tell me what you want! And make it something I would order…”

“Ok.” I snuggled in and nodded against his chest. “So…Mexican. I like Mexican. You like Mexican.”

“I do.”

“Anything then. Chicken or vegetables or whatever, literally anything Mexican.”

“Ok.” He made the call and dropped the phone back onto the bed. “Are you going to sleep at all tonight, now?”

“Yes. I was tired enough to sleep then, I’m still tired enough to sleep until Wednesday.” I smiled and left my hand where it was, making circles on his chest, just about able to see him watching it, and sighed. “You really thought I might have just left?”

“Yeah. I panicked.” He nodded and my peripheral vision watched him stop watching my hand and look at my face. “I’m a bit paranoid.”

I laughed slightly and nodded. “Hmm I know the feeling. Watching practice was like watching torture.”

“What?!”

“Worrying. It’s like my brain has suddenly realised how terrifying it is watching you ride. Beautiful and breathtaking, but terrifying.”

“Oh. Yeah…I understand. Or I can imagine.”

“But _you_ don’t have to be paranoid, you know? I’m not going anywhere.”

“Hmm.”

“No.” I sat up slightly and locked eyes with him. “I mean it; you don’t have to be paranoid. I’m not going anywhere. Well, no…sometimes I’ll be going places. But then I’ll call you to say goodnight and tell you where I am…ok, no…that sounds like you’re stalking me or something. What I mean is, I’m not going to disappear from your life. Unless you make me. Ok?”

He nodded and sat up slightly straighter, “I think we started ‘the conversation’...”

“I think we did.” I smiled in return and shrugged. “But…we kinda had to.”

“We did. You mean it?”

“What? About not disappearing?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m not answering that. If I say it, I mean it. Like you. Ok?”

“Ok.” He nodded and smiled again, not seeming so sure. “Ok…”

I slightly growled at him and felt the familiar, affectionate frustration start to grow. “Why are you so paranoid?!”

He sighed and looked away slightly, trying to not say it out loud after seeing my reaction, before eventually it appeared. “I…don’t have a good record with trust.”

“You don’t trust me?”

“No…I trust you. I don’t trust the _world_ …”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean…I don’t trust that this is…I don’t know. It seems too good to be true.”

“I know what you mean there. I know. I mean…I come from a really normal place. I know you do too – but you’ve climbed a ladder. I just…was in the right place at the right time and made Valentino Rossi laugh with a stupid joke, you know? Now I’m sat in his teammate’s motorhome…it’s weird. But for me, that’s the whole strange celebrity thing…why are _you_ like that?!”

“Because…ok…” He sighed and looked up at the ceiling for a split second before grabbing my hand and taking a deep breath. “Because...I can’t deal with it if you do. Ok? I mean…I _can’t_. It’s not like…a Championship loss or anything. There is no ‘next season’. There’s nothing I can do about it and there’s no second chance.”

 _Awww._ I tried to take that in and smiled at the look on his face. “I’m not going anywhere. I know what you mean, but…to be honest, this is the wrong way round! You’re JORGE LORENZO!” 

He smiled at that and shrugged slightly before sighing and shaking his head. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean anything here. Am I going to scare you? Is anything I say now going to scare you?”

 _You’re not seriously going to say it._ “Nothing you can say changes anything. Scare me? Probably. But…just…let’s be honest. Ok?”

“Seriously.” Still not believing. 

“We’ve known each other long enough. To me, anyway…this has been months. Ok, so we’ve not touched each other. But that’s not the important bit, is it? You’ve shared my life for months and you’ve made me laugh and cry and we’ve talked about _everything_ …”

“I know. But it sounds insane. And when did I make you cry?!”

“I’m reasonably insane, it’s fine.” I smiled and took a deep breath. “And…ok, well it wasn’t your fault, to be fair. Remember that night…I think you were testing, in Sepang. And you called me after you’d had that argument with your dad.”

“Oh. Yeah..? Was I really-“

“No, you didn’t do anything. You just…were so honest. And you…I don’t know how to explain it but I just wanted to put it right so badly and I couldn’t because I wasn’t there. Valentino called me a while after and we had a laugh and he put me back in a good mood. But it was pretty much the moment that the whole thing went from ‘me and Jorge get on well’ to ‘this is a big fuck up’. I realised that I wanted to be with you a lot more than play with him. So come on…cards on the table. You first, this time.”

“This time?”

“I basically laid myself at your feet yesterday outside Casey’s motorhome and you didn’t really react!”

“I did!”

“No, you didn’t. You did after, a bit, and made that terrifying joke, but-“

“Terrifying?!”

“Yeah! Terrifying! I find a plant a lot of responsibility!”

“Oh, well. Didn’t mean to _terrify_ you…” He rolled the word around his tongue and smiled at me smugly. “Thought you had bigger balls than that…”

“Pfff. It’s not about balls, it’s about…something else.” I stuck my tongue out and rolled my eyes waiting for the response.

“Oh, really? What?”

“Just…it’s a big thing! Kids!”

“Yeah, kids! I’m _that_ serious! Not tomorrow, but…you know, I want to know if you want them. Because I want them. And I want you.”

“I want you too but ARGH!”

“Ok.” He seemed to happily just surrender, glaring and grinning in equal measure, and shrugged at me, grip on my hand getting a bit tighter. “Fine! Fine. Same thing, I didn’t want to believe it then either and get my hopes up. But it’s pretty simple: I was looking for the right girl, and you are her. You make me laugh. You make me incredibly frustrated sometimes. LIKE NOW. You understand why I’m smiling or angry or upset. But we also believe in the same things. I never thought I’d find anybody who understood the reasons behind every single decision I make without me ever having to explain. It’s crazy. And you’re beautiful. In a real way. Where you look closer and it just gets better and better...it’s not fake. You’re not fake. Ironically.” He winked at me and smiled again. “But this is the really insane bit…” He took a deep breath and then leant forward so his lips were about an inch from mine. “Because I’ve never felt anything _close_ to this before. I’ve said these words, but I’ve never meant them. So please don’t get terrified, but…I love you. And I want you.”

I sat and stared for a while, or what felt like a while but must have been milliseconds, watching him start to panic as I didn’t reply straight away, eventually feeling it hit me and crushing him down onto the bed, surprised I had the strength to do it, staring down at him and hovering too close to his face to really take it all in, feeling his breath on my cheek as he spoke again, a lot quieter than before.

“Please reply.”

I pressed my lips against his ear and nodded, my words also quieter. “I love you too. That’s _why_ it’s terrifying.”

I felt arms wrap around me and pull me in impossibly close before his mouth met mine, words seeming like two other random people in the room might have said them, kiss lasting something between 5 minutes and 10, before I was suddenly pinned down under him and staring up at his expression of wonder and terror.

“So this is it? This is you saying ‘yes’, and tomorrow you’re coming in the garage and we’re going to take whatever happens.”

“Yes.”

“Terrifying?”

“Yes.”

“But worth it.”

“Yes.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“I lo-“

“Ok, stop. I'll keep replying! You don’t have to say it.”

“But I want to say it.”

“Really?” I smiled at the immediate return of the panic on his face. “Because I would rather you showed it.”

“Ohhhh.” He smiled and the panic evaporated as he nodded and ran his tongue down my neck. “Understood. I think I can do that.”

There was a knock on the door and we both groaned and realised what it was: the Mexican.

He rolled off the bed and did a good job of hiding the tent in his jeans as he greeted the hospitality guy and took the food, shutting the door again and putting it on the table that was just visible from the bedroom, calling over his shoulder and grinning at me when I appeared.

"Ok, you should eat now. You're going to need the energy." 

I squeezed his ass and got a yelp in response on the way past. "Ok. Good. Because this is torture."


	8. More Than Anything

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it was ages! Thank you so much for reading and everything :)
> 
> Anyway, here we go...
> 
> Hope the texting isn't too hard to follow :)

The torture didn’t last long. I ate enough of the food to make sure I had some sort of energy and sat staring at him across the table.

“So. You were going to tell me.”

He nodded and grinned, slightly enjoying the cheek of it. “Yeah. I was.”

“So I guess you’ve thought about this already then? The cloud of shit we’re going to be in?”

“Yeah. I have.”

“And you were prepared to risk it.”

“I am.”

“Ok. Your image is going to go down the drain.”

“Maybe.”

“No maybe.”

“Yes, maybe.” He grinned again, smug, eyes sparkling slightly. “Because if he doesn’t try and make it better, at least a bit, then we can say ‘Ok, fine. We’ll tell the truth.’ And he won’t want that to happen.”

I shook my head and frowned. “No.”

“No?”

“That’s not fair.”

“I didn’t say we would do it. That’s not fair at all. But…he doesn’t know that.”

“He knows I would never.”

“I know. And I know you wouldn’t, either. And I would probably not. But he thinks I would.”

I frowned again, although not from upset concern, more from interest in the idea. “That’s probably true.”

“It’s definitely true. So…I don’t know how to put this, because I know we’re in a weird situation.” He took my hand across the table once I’d put my fork down. “But…I don’t care about him. I don’t want to intentionally hurt anyone, ever…but here, this is my…life, I guess. My future, with you. That’s what’s at stake. So if it’s that versus hurting him in the crossfire, I’m sorry but-“

“No, I know. I know what you mean. But…I don’t know. Part of me is kind of waiting for the phone to ring and for him to want to talk-” 

“That’s never going to happen.”

“I know him a lot better than you do. Just like I know you a lot better than he does. I think there’s a chance. Maybe…I don’t know. I think there’s a chance that if I go and talk to him, at least me and him could be on casual greetings terms again. At least, he’d be able to understand, even if it hurt.”

“No way.”

“Honestly.”

He shrugged and took his hand back, sighing and stretching back in the chair, insolence way too present to be ignored. “Oh well I guess you do know him _very well_.”

“Don’t be like that. Seriously. You were going to say, ‘Hey! Leave him for me’ but you’re still jealous even though it was never real?!”

He looked out the window, foot tapping like an irritated press conference, then looked back at me and nodded, still. “Ok.” Deep breath. “That’s true. Sorry. I’m trying…”

“I know.” I grabbed his hand back and watched his thumbs make circles on the top of my hand. “But it shouldn’t be an effort.” I got to my feet and watched the nervous flash of ‘oh please don’t leave!’ cross his face before I yanked him back to his feet and rolled my eyes. “I’m not going anywhere. I was going to carry on where we left off.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah!” I widened my eyes and grinned, hands round my waist again. “So just…I don’t know. Tonight, we lock the door. Tomorrow, take it as it comes. After qualifying…I’m going to go and talk to him. And you don’t complain about it!” I pressed a finger to his lips, already on the verge of trying to say ‘no!’ and grinned as he seemed to accept defeat and try and bite my finger. “Wow, did I win?!”

He glared at me good naturedly and shook his head. “No.”

“Yeah, I think I won.” I grinned at him and then squealed as he bent down and picked me up over his shoulder. “Yeah, I definitely won!”

He deposited me on the bed and then pinned me down, lips pressed to my ear as I started to unbutton his jeans. “Ok. Fine. You won.”

I smiled over his shoulder and relaxed into the bed as his tongue started that same, deliciously slow journey down my neck. 

_I really did win._

*

It started off slow, then it got frenetic, then the urgency got beaten by the realisation that this was the first time we were in bed together and the moment could never be recaptured, and everything seemed like torturously blissful slow motion. We both seemed to realise the difference, although it sounds cheesy, between making love and fucking. And after staring at the ceiling for a few minutes, breathless, we then showered, which wasn’t an as-important first and so the desperation came back slightly and I smashed my hand into the screen and cracked it, which was funny but then would be a challenge to explain and get repaired. And then we were in bed like the night before, this time to sleep, and everything felt so natural it started to bring back that same nervous excitement at how serious it was. It didn’t feel like the second time, it felt like the thousandth, but not in a too-comfortable, bored, way; in a familiar, _correct_ way.

So we went to sleep, got up at 8, had breakfast, didn’t try and hide anything, and I did get a message from Vale: _We need to talk about this._

We arranged to do that after qualifying, and I missed practice 3 and 4, and then made my way back to the familiar Yamaha pits for Q2.

*

_“And there’s Valentino Rossi’s girlfriend in the Yamaha pits.”_

_“I thought that was over, actually, on Thursday, but I must be wrong.”_

The camera panned out and they looked at each other, commentators not usually lost for words, even mentioning it in the first place supposed to have been a casual ‘and there you go, move on’ kind of comment.

_“But…er…”_ Gavin trailed off and wondered what to say. _“As you can see, she’s in the other side of the garage…”_

He turned off the mics for a split second and looked at Nick. “Do you think that means what I think it means?!”

*

Jorge’s garage had known I was coming and they seemed relieved that I didn’t sit there and prove a distraction, which was strange given that I was 20ft further to the left but otherwise in the same place. There was nothing different. They were busy. I was there to watch, and then I was there to celebrate, because he was on pole. And that’s when people started to realise.

Girlfriends usually did just race day, it seemed, but that’s not how it had been with Vale and that’s how it had stayed. I walked down and tried to focus on the Juanito’s head in the distance I could just about see through the crowd, everything obviously thinking I was going to see Valentino, then realising he was 4th, and wondering where I was going, no one having heard the commentary or seen the feed. Most people had more important things to be thinking about; some people didn’t. I saw Jorge and made eye contact and smiled, him seemingly impressed I hadn’t just run away, and I walked up to the barrier behind the team as a hand snaked through and pulled me to the front. We stared at each other for a second before he grinned and planted a kiss, all the noise around us suddenly getting a whole lot quieter. We both closed our eyes for a few seconds and then broke away to assess the damage. Casey, who was second, was trying to deflect any of the attention away from it and breeze past it. Dani, who was third, was literally just frozen next to his bike, staring. And staring.

We looked at each other for a couple of seconds before the chatter around us started again, in 5 or 6 different languages, three of which I understood, Jorge replacing my French for Italian and both of us not enjoying the words. Then, the moment was gone, Casey went first to the interviews, almost dragging Dani behind him, who still hadn’t recaptured his freedom of movement despite Puig yelling at him straight in the face about how he’d done a good job. I watched and smiled sadly as he caught my eye and frowned, somehow disappointed, excited and just plain shocked at the same time, and disappeared behind his Repsol Honda teammate as me and Jorge were left with the unshocked but certainly cringing members of Jorge’s team.

“I have to go now. Don’t say anything to anyone, right?”

I looked up and nodded, shrugging at him slightly. “You don’t have to tell _me_ that. I think you’re the one who has to watch what he says…”

He smiled slightly and nodded, admitting that was true, certainly in the past. “I’ve got that covered, now. This is important.”

“Yes, it is.” I smiled and accepted another quick kiss, him seeming to want to draw a line under the shock with confirmation. “Go. See what happens.”

*

Ignoring people who are intensely interested in you is very hard. Ignoring people who know your name is even harder. But I kept it neutral and tried my best to ignore without being plain rude and made my way back to the motorhome, waiting for my phone to start going and watching the just-finished interviews a couple of minutes late. Casey was completely normal. Dani was even more uncomfortable than usual, and Jorge sat down looking like the happiest man on Earth. He couldn’t help it, but it didn’t help.

Nothing was asked, of course they wouldn’t ask, but he didn’t say anything either. I turned it off and stared at the wall for a few seconds before the first beep beep of a text appeared and I held my breath.

Nicky: _Ok I understand all that coded shit yesterday now…you have to explain what the fuck is going on!_

Scott: _Ohhh I see! Didn’t see that coming! Naughty naughty… ;)_

Uccio: _Non ci credo ma l'ho sempre saputo._

Jorge: _On my way back.. xxx_

Nicky: _If that sounded harsh I meant it to be friendly shock…not picking sides._

Casey: _BOOM. Well…you did it…I think Dani needs to lie down._

Pol: _Arrggghhhhh ¡¿qué pasó?! Pol + Aleix quieren saber…!!_

Cal: _Well good luck and everything…_

Scott: _If you’re not in the mood for that was meant to just be a joke. x_

Vale: _I wanted to talk to you._

I stared at the last one and it my lip for a second, the simplicity of the words, and the past tense, making it all sink in. _I will always want to talk to you._

I started replies and tried to not start panicking.

To Jorge: _I’m here. Xx_

To Casey: _Yeah, we did it. Yeah Dani seemed mind-blown! :( Not going to be fun…_

To Nicky: _I’m glad you said that. I would understand if you did though._

To Cal: _We’ll need some, I think. Thanks for your help. :)_

To Pol: _Pues…me enamoré de Jorge…y nunca amaba Vale. No digáis nada, pero…eso es._

Nicky replied first: _No, I heard what you said yesterday. Seemed like you meant it. I was kind of waiting for something to happen to explain it…coffee later? Dovi’s on PR duty tonight. “Bring the boyfriend”…?_

_Always knew you were a good one, Nicky._

Casey: _Yeah I’ll see if he says anything. I think I played it too unshocked, sorry!_

To Nicky: _I’ll see what 99 plans are (not used to his schedule yet) but that would be great…can’t even explain how much I appreciate it._

Nicky: _Hey, I get on well with Vale and everything but we’re all adults here. No politics :)_

To Nicky: _Like I said…. <3_

To Scott: _I know ;)… yeah…not sure what to say. Just…you know me well enough to know I’ve not been a whore, I hope…_

Scott: _PITY!! Haha. Explain tomorrow at the airport!?_

To Scott: _Yeah probably ;) #stalker. Home or Catalunya?_

Scott: _Your home!_

To Scott: _21.40 to Girona?_

Scott: _Yeeha! Sant Celoni for me and the boys :)_

I smiled slightly at that, relieved a few people weren't just dropping me at least, and ignored Uccio. I got to the last one I hadn’t dealt with and took a deep breath.

To Vale: _I want to talk to you more than anything._


	9. Thunderface

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 24th of June it says I last updated!! That is unacceptable!! Sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry!
> 
> There've been a few painful races until the podium in Germany in JL99 world, so I ran for cover with Repsol for some smiles (not in a traitorous way, promise ;))
> 
> I hope you like it and you're still with me here...calm(ish) before the storm... ;)

My phone beeped the second the door opened to reveal Jorge, and I paused for a second before realising that, if it was who I hoped it was, it couldn’t wait. It was.

Vale: _More than him? Don’t think so. You could have at least waited until after the race._

I sighed and caught the Mallorcan’s eye as he smiled and sat down next to me, taking my phone out of my hands and putting it on the table in front of us.

“We did it.”

“We did.” I sighed again but then smiled as a hand wrapped itself around mine, and I rested my head on his shoulder. “Regrets?”

“Me? No! Look what I get!” He pointed at me with his free hand and then pulled my hand up to kiss the back of it. “You know what I mean. I find you very attractive, but I love you for much more than that.”

_If you needed reminding why…_ “I love you too. Which is lucky, ‘cause you’re butt ugly.”

He went silent for a few seconds, comedically shocked and appalled, before suddenly pouncing on me and pinning me down. “HEY!” He locked his eyes on mine and frowned. “Maybe now that’s ok, when I was 13 that would have been unforgivable!”

“Sorry.” I licked the end of his nose and grinned. “I was just joking. Judging by your social media, I think you know that nowadays.”

He narrowed his eyes, still smiling, and raised an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It just means you post a lot of pictures that prove how gorgeous you are.”

“Awwww.” He smiled again and then leant down for a kiss, the contact suddenly making me feel like I just wanted to curl up in bed with him for the foreseeable future and lock the door, safe from anything. He seemed to feel it too and wrapped himself around me like I was tiny, just taking a moment for everything to sink in.

“I had a few messages…”

He pulled himself off me and sat down again how we were before, realised the conversation would be easier if I had a source, and passed my phone back. 

“Thanks. So, yeah…a few positives. Casey said sorry for not looking more shocked…Uccio was mean…the Espargabros were curious, Scott didn’t seem to care…and-“

“Espargabros?!”

“Ah. Yeah…” I shrugged and smiled. “I’m guessing you don’t call each other things like that…”

“Not usually. I like it though. And Scott?” He turned to me and frowned, more curious but not necessarily in a happy way. “Redding? You know him well enough to…talk about this?”

“Yeah…? I know him really well by now. He’s British…I’m British. He’s a good guy.”

“Hmm.”

“DON’T do that again.”

He smiled and held up his hands. “Not doing anything! Promise. Just weird to find out little things about your life I didn’t know.”

“I know what you mean. But you know the big stuff. In fact, I think you know more than anyone else.”

“Really? Already?”

“The way you say that makes it seem like you’re worried about skeletons in your closet…”

“No!” He laughed and shook his head. “No skeletons. You know everything about me, I think. I just thought you were always holding back…”

“I was. With saying how I felt, but nothing else.”

“Same here.”

“Good. Well…then yeah, Scott doesn’t hate me. The other two big ones…Valentino…well, look…” I handed him my phone and he read it, concern for the situation obvious but dislike for the Italian more obvious.

“Hmm. Right…what are you going to say?”

“Not sure yet. I’ll do that in a second. First…what are you doing tonight?”

“Me? Hopefully you.” The smug expression on his face was enough to merit a whack on the arm. 

“Ok, yeah. I hope so too. BEFORE that. Because I want to talk to Nicky, and he said ‘bring the boyfriend’. Which is you.”

“Nicky? I thought he’d be the first one to put himself in Team Vale.”

“Nah…they get on well, but I did drop some hints…about it maybe not being how it seems…and like he said to me, we’re all adults here. No politics.”

“That’s good. A surprise. But good…”

“Exactly. So…is that ok?”

“Yeah. I think we should, you know…walk around and be normal. Hiding makes it feel more guilty.”

“Exactly…”

“Ok now…I’m going to have a shower. With the door open. And until you join me I’m going to sing as loud as I can…”

“Ok, ok!” I cringed and smiled at him. “Nobody wants that. I’ll be 2 minutes, just going to reply to this…”

“Valentino?”

“Vale.”

“Vale.”

“Ya vengo…”

“Ufff no me hables en-“

“Ok, ya! Ducha!”

He nodded grinned, walking off towards the bathroom, singing already starting and making it hard to think about anything other than killing him, and I picked up my phone to think about what to say.

To Vale: _Yeah, maybe. Everything could have been different, but it isn’t. I’m sorry, like I said. If what you told me is true, then please can we talk?_

I decided that was enough, put the phone down, and joined him in the shower.

*

“Hi…yeah, er…I have a problem with my shower….yeah, I was, er…training? Near the shower… and I broke it…yeah thanks. Yeah. Now? Er…maybe give us…er, me…20 minutes?”

*

The rest of the afternoon was rough for him, and fine for me. I stayed in the motorhome and got too excited at beating his lap record round the Nordscheife on the Xbox, but he went to do an interview with someone. The woman doing it had obviously heard about the day’s events, and all she would ask was about that. He replied casually to a couple, trying to defuse the mood, before eventually he’d lost his temper and had to be talked down by Aleix, who was also being interviewed, and the whole thing ran on 40 minutes later than it was meant to, and looked, by the end, like none of it had been any stress at all.

_The magic of TV._

I got the text commentary of all this and decided to have food waiting there for when he got back, calling the same number he had the night before, as I’d been instructed to, and cringing slightly at the knowing and amused tone of whoever it was taking the call and agreeing to send enough healthy Mexican food for _two_ people to Jorge Lorenzo’s motorhome.

It arrived before he did and I set the table and put music on, trying to make it seem like a real room somewhere far from what was, essentially, just the world’s most expensive car park: the paddock. He walked in with ‘thunderface’, what I’d decided to call the expression that he got when he’d been beaten unfairly, annoyed or ignored, saw the food and me grinning sat at the table and looked up at the ceiling, sighing and smiling happily, before taking his seat opposite me and slouching into the chair.

“I forgot about this. Thank you.”

“What?”

“I forgot what it was like to have someone doing nice little things just because they’re nice. I will too, promise.”

“Like taking your teammate’s ‘girlfriend’’s call in the middle of the night when she’s upset?”

“That doesn’t count.”

I locked eyes with him across the table and nodded. “That counts a lot.”

“Ok. Good. And…I’m so glad you’re here. I realised that this afternoon…I mean…I’m glad we told people together…the way that woman looked at me…It was like she was just trying to a…what do you call it, when they only say negative stuff?”

“Hmm…character assassination?”

“Hmm! Cool. Maybe I didn’t know that, but I like it. She was trying to do a cha-rac-ter ass-ass-i-na-tion and I think…I don’t know. I’m used to it being difficult with the media sometimes. They love Valentino, they don’t really talk about Dani…and they’re ok with me, most of them, but some of them just love to hate me. Same with Casey. It’s difficult to not yell at them.”

“But you didn’t?”

“Today, if it was just me…maybe I would have done. But not when it’s us, no. That’s not fair.”

“It’s only going to get harder…”

“I know. But then we’ll take it in turns to do nice things. Deal?”

“Deal. I think they forget you’re people. You’re not a pile of logos, you’re a human being.”

He nodded, eyes taking on a new and slightly more intense expression, and smiled.

“I agree.”

*

After food, he more-reluctantly-than-I’d-expected come with me to meet Nicky, who was sat in his Ducati jacket squinting into the sun, waiting.

“Hey.” The American smiled and got up, kiss to the cheek to greet me, and then there was the customary awkward moment when him and Jorge came face to face, ending halfway in a strangely bromantic handshake/hug. 

“Hi. So…I brought the boyfriend.”

“I see that.” Nicky smiled at me and we both looked at the slightly reddening Spaniard sat next to me. “You thought I’d be hating y’all, right?”

Jorge nodded at him and shrugged, shoulders gradually getting lower and lower as he started to relax. “Maybe…”

“Well I know I don’t know you very well…but I think I know Ana pretty well. And I think there’s something here y’all not telling me.”

“There is. It's-”

Jorge turned to me, surprised I was about to admit it, and switched to Spanish, earning a raised eyebrow from Nicky.

_“You trust him with this?”_

_“Yeah. Besides, it’s Vale who would get hurt.”_

_“True. Ok…”_

I turned back to the American and grinned at the look on his face. “He was just checking I trust you.”

“And you do?”

“I do. Besides, this is worse for Vale if it comes out…”

Nicky leant forward, frowning, and then raised both eyebrows. “Right…”

*

After we’d told him and he’d been surprised but supportive, Jorge’s shoulders were now back to normal relaxed levels. And he’d even not frowned and got ‘thunderface’ when I’d told him that Vale had replied, and that I was going to meet him. He did want to go with me though, somehow scared of letting me be alone with him, and not due to jealousy. He seemed to think the only possible outcome was a lot of tears. It took a good 10 minutes of convincing that it was a terrible idea before I was finally stood, alone, on the Italian’s doorstep, waiting for him to open it.

And he did, visible deep breath as his eyes caught mine and he let me in past him, and I took an invisible deep breath as we sat down opposite each other and I wondered what I was going to say.

After a couple of seconds, he sighed and shrugged, slowly, his own version of Thunderface starting to take over.

“So...what you want to say?”


	10. Sometime

_He was right._ A part of me started yelling to myself about how the smug bastard was always right, but the rest of me stayed concentrated on the blue eyes staring back at me. _His tears, mine, or both?_

“I want to say that I’m sorry.”

“I already hear this.”

“I know, but I want you to hear it again, from my face, and know that I mean it.”

“I know you mean it, but it doesn’t change anything.”

_I should have left it a few more days._ “I’m sorry, and I care about you and I miss you already. But I haven’t cheated on you. I don’t know if it feels like-“

“It feels like I am almost truly happy, and then she walk away.”

_Oh God._ “I’m sorry.”

“You say this before. What else? Is there anything? Because there is no use for talking when you already make up your mind.”

“It wasn’t a choice. I love him and I have for a long time.”

The eyes went from bright blue to something darker and stormier. “Well then I am sorry too. Will be a long life as wife to ‘im.”

“Don’t do that.”

“What? Tell you the truth?”

“No. It’s not _my truth_ anyway. We never meant for this to happ-“

“What I want to know.” He stared at me, communicating everything that was everything I really didn’t want to be faced with, and took a deep breath. “Is what he was going to do. Before he know that we aren’t ‘real’. Hmm? And what were you going to do?”

_That I don’t know, for me. For him…the thing you think is proving you right about him._ “I don’t know. It was always going to be a mess. After you said you loved me, I would have said the same thing that I did say, because it’s not fair to stay if you feel like that and I don’t. Him…I don’t know.”

Something on his face told me exactly which bit of that he hadn’t bought. “He was going to tell you how he feels.”

_Yes, he was._ I took a deep breath and closed my eyes for a second. “Yes. He was.”

The satisfaction almost outweighed the hurt. “So he prove what I think is right. He’s a bad person.”

“No.” I shook my head and got to my feet to leave, knowing this wasn’t going to end well. “He’s not a bad person. You would have done that too. Because he doesn’t want to fuck me behind your back, he wants to share his life with me. Because he loves me, and I love him. And I’m sorry that that comes at a price for you, but everything I ever wanted, I found it. And when that happens you have to grab it. You have to. I know it hurts-“

“I would have done that.” He nodded and I thought we were getting somewhere before the spite came back and he pointed at the door. “Because I wanted that too. And what he did is worse – he didn’t fuck you, no. But he talked and talked and talked until you actually _believe_ what he say. And that is-“

“I’m not listening to this. I’m sorry. We’re going to get completely fucked in the press because of this, you know? It’s not just you. That’s how worth it it is.”

“It won’t be.” He looked back at the room as I reached the door, not wanting to watch me out. “It won’t be worth it, and you deserve every fucking word they write about him.”

*

I made it almost back to Jorge’s door before a few tears did hit me. _Because I care. I care. The other 99% of him is one of the best friends I’ve ever had. But it’s 99._ I was repeating that to myself before the door opened and illuminated me in a pool of light, my reaction not fast enough to hide how upset I was.

“Hey.” He bounded down the steps to where I was and wrapped me up in a hug, resting his chin on the top of my head and stroking my hair. “Shh. Come on. It’s ok.”

I nodded into his chest and tried to take a few deep breaths and let the hug remind me of why I was where I was in the first place.

“Please don’t cry.”

I pulled away slightly and looked up at the tone, the look on his face almost making me want to cry again, too much empathy. “I’m sorry. I’m trying. I’m not this person. I’m more-”

“I know. It’s ok.” He pulled me back in and shook his head. “I hate it. I hate it and I hate him for making you feel like this.”

“I hate it too. But I don’t hate him.”

There were a few seconds of silence before he nodded and pulled away again, grabbing my hand and leading me back in. “I don’t either. I’m sorry I said that.”

_That’s why he’ll always be wrong about you._ “I know.”

He lead me through down to the bedroom and sat me on the end of the bed, him on the floor looking up at me, hands holding mine. “We need to talk about some things before tomorrow.”

“I know.”

He locked his eyes on mine and sighed as he saw the expression again, pushing some hair gently off my forehead. “Please don’t. Tell me what I can do?”

“You’re already doing it.” 

“Can’t I just make it go away?”

“No.” I shook my head and shrugged. “But sometime it will go away, and then it will just be me and you.”

“That’s what I want to talk about. Me and you. ‘Sometime’.”

I nodded and smiled at the suddenly buzzing, intense expression on his face. “Me and you…”

“Me and you. In a house. With a life. And some day, some kids. And probably Ricky.”

I laughed at that and nodded, talking about the light at the end of the tunnel making the tunnel seem shorter. “Well that all sounds good. Except Ricky.”

“He’ll be heartbroken!” Jorge grinned at me and stretched up to kiss me on the nose. “But, seriously…it’s going to be bad. First headlines are already online…the whole week is going to be rough. But we want to live together, yes?”

I nodded.

“Ok, good. But when? And what are you going to do? Do you want to come to races? Do you want to stay away? Get your job back? Get another one? Learn to windsurf? Tai chi? Portuguese? Follow me around?”

I smiled and nodded with a little shrug. “Everything. Except stay away.” I wrapped my arms round his neck and kissed the top of his head. “I want to follow you, long term. Ok…let’s have the long term conversation, then we’ll talk about the short term…ok?”

“Ok.”

“Good. Long term, I want to follow you. I know that doesn’t sound very ‘independent woman’, but I don’t care. I’ve achieved good things, but I’ve not been dedicated to something for decades and been a World Champion. It doesn’t matter to me that you’re a guy, it just matters that what you do is what you’re meant to be doing, and I haven’t found that. And I love it. I love being here. I love watching you do what you do – although it’s terrifying as well. So I don’t care about the misguided feminist issues with that, I just…it’s difficult, because I can’t-“

“Stop!” He smiled at how overcomplicated it was all starting to get and shook his head. “I know what you’re going to say, and I already did it.”

I frowned and wondered what the fuck he was talking about. “What?!”

“I know what you’re going to say and I already sorted it out.”

“Ok there aren’t many times you aren’t psychic but right now I think you’re wrong.” I raised my eyebrows at his scowl and then smiled. “No?”

“No!” He suddenly pushed me back onto the bed and grinned down at me. “Congratulations, my love. You own half a house in Barcelona, and…” He felt around in his back pocket for something and then pulled out a card. _Holy shit._ “…you can buy another 4 if you want. But you _cannot_ drive my car.”

I stared and stared and stared until it became a problem. _Oh my God._ “Oh my God. Are you serious? What the fuck?!”

“What do you mean?! I thought you’d be happy!” Worry replaced anticipation as the expression on my face remained shocked.

“But what the fuck is wrong with you!”

“Wrong with me?!”

“Yeah! I mean…God! What if I was some money grabbing whore and you just transferred half of everything in your life to me the day after we first slept together! THAT! What is wrong with you?!”

He started to smile again after realising the problem, nodding at me. “Ah. So you’re angry because if you were somebody else, which you aren't, I would be bankrupt.”

_Ok maybe it makes less sense like that._ “Yeah! You idiot!”

He took that in, shook his head in affectionate desperation, and rolled his eyes. “I love you.”

“I love you too, but-“

“No but! Did you hear what I said? You aren’t somebody else. You’re you. And you’re going to spend a lot less than me, I know that already!” He grinned and shrugged at my knowing nod. “I don’t want anything from you. You never, ever have to ask about anything or for anything. It’s yours and mine.”

_Fuck fuck fuck._ “I don’t know what to say. It feels like it should be wrong.”

“I’m a MotoGP rider. I get paid well. You’re not. You don’t. I love you and I want to share my life with you. You love me and want to share your life with me. So it makes sense.”

“It makes sense.”

“And don’t worry, I’m not trying to make you a housewife. I feel like you’d do the same the other way around.”

“I would.”

“And we would have the same conversation, the other way round.”

“We would.”

“So shut up and let’s go to sleep.”

“Fair enough.” I shrugged and grinned as it was his turn to be shocked at how easy that had turned out to be.

“Wow. I won this one!”

“Don’t even fucking try to make it a competition.”

“You did, before.”

“I did. I won.”

“Fuck off.” He grinned and pushed himself up off the bed and yawned, stretching his arms above his head. “The first thing you’re going to buy is a car, I bet.”

“I have a car.”

“Ah…yeah. We didn’t talk about the other thing: where we’re going to live. You want to come and live with me?”

“Do you want to come and live in a tiny house near Girona?”

“No!”

“I’ll probably force myself to move in with you, then.”

“Good!”

“But I have a car.”

“The thing you drive isn’t a car. Not a proper car. I know you love driving…I almost just bought you a 458 Italia for a surprise when we got back but then I thought you’d probably _kill me_.”

“Ok...WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU! You don’t just buy people Ferraris!”

“No, I don’t! Not even you! So don’t yell at me. _Buy it for yourself._ With your money. That you earnt for being the most incredible woman in the world and somehow walking into my life and loving me.”

_Game over._

*

“Are you still awake?”

“No.”

I grinned and prodded him in the dark. “Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not lying, I’m totally asleep.”

“It’s like we’re 12.”

“It is.” I felt the pillow move as he nodded and then a hand ran its way down my side and pulled me in, skin tingling. “But in other ways I think we’re grown up…”

I smiled and nodded back. “Maybe. Now you said that you’re going to laugh at why I woke you up…”

“I’m used to your immaturity now.”

I whacked him on the arm and squirmed as his tongue ran down my neck, more slug than sexual. “Ewww. Likewise.”

“Go on then. What?”

“I would have been really angry if you bought me a Ferrari...”

“Yeah. I know.”

“...because I want to go to Maranello and pick it up.”

He laughed into the pillow and hung onto me a bit tighter. “Ok. Not what I expected you to say…”

“I know. But I think you win for shock of the day.” 

“It’s not even a big thing. There’s something bigger planned for next weekend…”

“Bigger?!”

“Yeah. And we didn’t talk about the week.” The same journey down my neck, this time lips humming across my skin, fingers starting to explore. “We fly back, you fetch your things…we move in together. We lock the doors, and we don’t go on the internet.”

I nodded and ran my hands through his hair as he shifted to on top of me. 

“Sounds perfect.”


	11. Blurred Lines

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, again. (and maybe also for the title... ;))
> 
> I get more jealous when I write this, so I've been lazy. ;)
> 
> I hope you like it...!! <3

“You usually set the alarm for 8?” 

“Yeah but WE set it for 7.45.” 

“Oh, we do, do we?” 

“Yes. I need fifteen minutes with you before everyone else. Ok?” 

“Aww. In that case, maybe. Although I can’t promise I’ll be alive…” 

“Well I-“ 

“If you make another joke about blurred lines I will leave no line blurred in my physical violence.” 

“Understood. I love you. Goodnight.” 

“You know part of me dies every time you say that, right?" 

“What?” 

“I love you. Because I love you, and I…I don’t know. Maybe because, you know…I just-“ 

“Bored. Shut up and sleep.” 

“Fuck off.” 

“Love you too.” 

I smiled and relaxed against him, more than aware of the smile on his face despite the dark.

_I know, and it blows my mind._

*

I actually woke up _first_ , 4 minutes before the alarm blared, and had a couple of blissful minutes of cliché staring at him; laughing sometimes when his nose wrinkled or he made unimaginably hilarious little noises. Eventually, I had to try and wake it up.

“Morning.” I blew on his ear and laughed again as his face crinkled in horror, trying again. “MORNING.”

“Nooooooooooo.” He rolled over slightly, almost dislodging me out the bed, and shook his head, by now obviously awake and doing a bad job of pretending. Obviously awake in that he felt me start to slide and grabbed me back into a more balanced position.

“Yeah, morning.” I snaked a hand under the covers and tweaked a nipple, making his eyes shoot open. “Ha! Morning.”

“Morning.” He pouted and then pulled me back under with him, hand tangled in my hair. “You shouldn’t wake people up by the nipple.”

“Would anything other than body-contact have worked, though?”

“No…” He grinned into the kiss and sighed with satisfaction, getting comfy again. “But you could have been more ambitious.”

“I’m not an athlete.”

“If last night is proof, I disagree.”

“Pfff. You’re just trying to get a re-run.”

“Yeah. Abso-fucking-lutely.”

“I love how you’re shit at pronouns and prepositions, but you can insert a swear word into anything.”

“Me too. I’m a-fucking-mazing.”

“Ah, shit…” I straddled him and sat up far enough to let fresh air in the bed with us. “I seem to have downgraded my Jorge Lorenzo for the 2007 version…”

He wiggled his eyebrows and tucked some hair behind my ear. “Shit happens.”

“Así es la vida..”

“Claro. Pero…today…maybe more.”

“No clouds until at least after breakfast.”

“Ok.” He ran his hand down my back and his eyes lit up as he saw the reaction, all shiver and eye-contact, before he almost fully Marilyn-pouted. “We don’t have time…”

“I know. Your fault.”

“This time, maybe.” He winked and then sat up, arms round my back, and somehow managed to lift us out the bed, carrying me over to the bathroom.

“Don’t drop me!”

*

Out early enough to make it to breakfast unbothered, we ate in comfortable mostly-silence before Valentino appeared, later _always later_ than Jorge to any events or practices held before noon. If he saw us, he didn’t look. And he did see us, because we were the only ones there.

“You think the wall will be back?”

“Not this weekend.” His eyes diverted to over my shoulder, checking out his teammate’s demeanour. “Wouldn’t be surprised if they do next race, though.”

“I still have a bit of faith. And you still have your blackmail. Joke.”

“And he just looked at me, and looks like he wants to kill me.”

“I do that all the time.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I do. But he knows, somewhere, that it’s not your fault.”

“No way. It’s _always_ the other guy with him. I thought you and Casey were friends?”

“We are.” I raised my eyebrows pointedly and gave him a _don’t be harsh_ look. “And me and Valentino were a bit more than that. Please…remember that.”

“Pff.”

“Please?”

“Fine.”

“Put bitch-face away.”

He grinned at that, and his eyes locked back on mine. “Bitch-face?!”

“I can see from the look on your face that you know EXACTLY what I mean, Mr Lorenzo.”

“Sorry, Mrs Lorenzo.”

“You’re Spanish, that joke isn’t that simple.”

“You’re English. And I’m…in-ter-na-tio-nal.”

“In that case I change my complaint for one of commitment-phobia.”

He raised an eyebrow, smirk back but puzzlement remaining. “Does that mean ‘don’t say it because it makes you scared?’”

“Yeah.” 

“Sorry, Mrs Lorenzo.”

“Finish your juice.”

“Yes, mum.”

“That one’s worse.”

“I know!” He grinned and downed the rest of the contents of the cup, getting to his feet and offering me his hand, which I took, and then we both held our breath slightly as we walked past Valentino and back outside.

“No hiding, ok?”

I nodded towards the people already starting to converge on us. “Yeah, but it’s a bit late for that.”

He sighed at me and squeezed me hand before turning back to the first people who had caught us up, smiling a deflective smile and refusing to do anything like pictures or signing without me still attached to him. And ignoring many and varied comments, questions and statements about what the fuck he was doing.

Once we were back down at the garage, he let out a long breath and sighed. “Wow. I’m impressed with myself. Are you impressed?”

“Yeah. This time, genuinely.” I smiled and reciprocated the quick kiss. “Now…be careful.”

“Always.” He pecked me on the lips one last time and then yelped happily as I slapped his ass on the walk-away.

“I MEAN IT!”

No one crashed in Moto3 warm up. No one crashed in Moto2 warm up.

2 big names crashed in MotoGP warm up.

*

“Can I go there?”

“Yes. Of course.” Lin looked at me like I was stupid, shrugging. “It’s a bit late for worrying about the image…”

 _Ouch._ “Yeah, I guess. Ok, well…I’m going then. Ok?”

“Sorry that was harsh. I’m happy for you, and for him. But-“

“I know, I know. Thanks. I’m gone.”

I got down there as quickly as humanly possible, interest manifesting itself in screams and questions from every other person who saw me and recognised me, trying to ignore it, and they were more than expecting me by the time I made it through the door.

“This way.”

I started to follow before stopping and cringing, having to ask. “Who are we going to see?”

She stopped and turned, confused at the question. “Valentino.”

I cringed a bit more and then slowly shook my head, looking across the hall from the door she’d been about to open. “That door is Lorenzo?”

“Yeah…”

 _Don’t look at me like that._ I felt my face start to burn and shrugged at her, trying to pretend I hadn’t noticed the expression. “I need that door, then.”

“Because it was Valentino’s fault?“

“No, because you obviously didn’t see what happened yesterday. I’m…with Jorge. I want to see Jorge.” I realised how pathetic that sounded as she tried to hide the curious distrust on her face, smile fading fast.

“Ok…”

“I mean that like you took it. Take me to my boyfriend. Please. Through _that_ door.”

“Right.” She shrugged in barely disguised disgust and all but pushed me towards it. “Well there you go. Ricky and Casey are coming, too. So you’re…prepared…”

I took a deep breath and tried not to overthink that, nodding at her and then stopping, hand on the handle. _Please be as ok as they said._

“Hey.”

I closed the door behind me and took a deep breath facing it. _This is no good. Pull yourself together._

“Hey. What-”

“Don’t cry!” He smiled at me and shook his head, beckoning me over. “I’ll be back in the garage in 10 minutes. You didn’t even need to come.”

I laughed at how quickly he’d called that and shrugged, self-conscious. “I’m panicking.”

“I can see that. Come here.”

“You’re ok?”

“I’m fine. I’m bruised, and I’m _so_ fucking _angry_ , but I’m fine.”

 _Deep breath._ “Thank God. Ok. And-”

“He’s ok. More scans than me I think – I can hear them talking through the door – but it sounds like he’s fine. Except for his fucking _brain_ -“

“Don’t.”

He swore under his breath and took another _deep_ breath. “Ok. Calm…ok.”

And he was back in the garage in 10 minutes, and talked through what had happened with the team.

Consensus: _“He shouldn’t have tried that.”_

_“No, he shouldn’t. And if he does it in the race, if he goes over the line once-“_

_“We’re going to talk to him about it.”_

_“Good. Or I will.”_


	12. Crossing the Line

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry sorry sorry again for the delay, and ♥ thank you for reading.
> 
> I hope you're enjoying it, I hope I'm not making anyone a devil ;)
> 
> And post-update edit: SORRY I wrote Ducati by accident re: Casey! I've changed it to Honda. Been watching some 27 glory days today!

Jorge went back to the garage, but I didn’t. I knew it was partly something very selfish going to see Vale, because he couldn’t exactly get away from it, or stop me. But I also cared, and I thought that if I continued to show that – if he felt as he said he did – it would eventually make a difference. Even if he had done a magnificent Jerez 2011 in the Warm Up on his teammate, who was also my _whatever you call it_. Which still made me tingle.

I pushed open the door nervously; not knowing whether he was alone or with people; specifically not wanting to run into Uccio, who I knew was the devil in Vale’s ear counteracting the angel of whatever part of him was still feeling about me. But he was alone, and his face went from surprise to venom to irritation, eventually settling somewhere between wanting to be left alone and begrudging happiness. 

“Hey.”

“’ello.”

I smiled sadly, shrugging slightly as I walked in, and took the chair next to the bed. “How are you?”

“Ok.”

 _One word answers, ok._ “Good. I was worried.”

“I bet, very worried.”

“I mean it.”

He sighed and looked away out the window before nodding slowly and locking his eyes back on mine. “I believe you. But you shouldn’t be here.”

 _Oh?!_ “Oh. Oo-k.”

“I think you should go. Jorge is ok?”

 _Wow._ “He’s fine. Angry…but he’s fine.”

“Good. That he is fine, and that he’s angry.” He laughed slightly, in that muted, trying-to-defuse-a-situation way, sadly, and pointed to the door. “Please...”

I nodded and got up, thinking that was probably good advice and head still reeling from the _question. Although, it was his fault._

“Bye. And…be careful. In the race. Please?”

He looked at me again and shrugged. “I am always the same.”

 _That’s not strictly true._ “Ok. I don’t say it because of…who you, er…hit. It’s also because I don’t want to see you hurt either.”

“I know. It’s-“

He stopped as the door opened to reveal Uccio, face darkening upon seeing me and almost physically pushing me out the way to get to Vale, me silently glowering more at the fact that we had seemed on the cusp of progress. 

“You shouldn’t be here.”

 _Here we go._ “Yeah, I’m going.”

“Good.”

I sighed and nodded at Vale on the way out, trying to unravel all the different things in his eyes as he watched me go before I let the door go and it started to close. But I did catch one last thing before it did.

_“You shouldn’t speak to her like that.”_

*

The first few laps were mayhem before it settled down. Jorge got away in front, Dani chasing, before at about half distance it started to rain. Everyone pitted and the order remained, but whatever had been holding Casey and Vale back was then suddenly in their favour and their mini battle over third rapidly caught and passed Dani before setting off after the Spartan. And catching him. I held my breath, as did everyone else in the blue boxes in the pit lane, and at least one side of the Honda garage. _Please be careful._

On track and off track are separate, they always say. And they are. But, sometimes one can bleed into the other; like it had in warm up, like it had in Jerez the year before when Casey shot his mouth off, like Rossi-Biaggi, like Prost-Senna. Some things on one side are too big not to affect the other. And the Warm Up had proven to a degree that this was one of them, and the race proved it still was. Casey got past Jorge first, and they stayed in a tight group in that order around the remainder of the lap, before Jorge got him back. Casey retook him. Vale, as Vale does, sat and watched and waited. Casey then ran a bit deep at Turn 1 and let both Yamahas past, catching them up again fairly quickly, and the game of chess continued. Nobody made any more mistakes for another few laps, trading lap times within hundredths of each other, before the rain got heavier and Casey seemed to decide he was going for it, off or winning. He blocked them both into Turn 1, judged it perfectly, and was a few tenths clear within a couple of corners, managing the gap. Honda’s audible sigh of relief rolled down the pit lane towards us, everything now focused on 99 vs 46. 

He kept waiting, which for me almost made it worse, and for Jorge I was sure it was the same. And the guys sat around me. Because it’s _Valentino Rossi_. It’s a tactic. It’s thought out. It’s not waiting because he can’t, it’s waiting because he _won’t_. Not yet, anyway. And 3 laps to go, the 3 tenths between them suddenly became 1, and the mood ramped up again, audibly. Jorge was inch perfect around every single corner, Vale was inch perfect around every single corner. It was almost a Mallorcan with an Italian riding pillion.

Everyone knew there was going to be a move, and there was. Final lap, turn 1. Jorge had obviously been expecting it too, because as soon as he saw it start to happen he braked earlier and went inside for the switchback, which worked. Vale shook his head on the bike and reattached himself to the exhaust of his teammate, waiting again around 2 and 3; waiting waiting waiting. Jorge made his first and only mistake of the race, on the penultimate corner, and Vale went for it. The gap was about 2 inches too small, but it was soon violently made big enough for the sister bike and the 46 flashed past, swapping a small amount of paint, nothing too bad although Casey would have had a fit. The other side of the garage erupted, and our side gritted our teeth. _This is it. One more._ I couldn’t decide whether he’d want the moral high ground – a move now was risky at best, violent or dangerous at worst – or just to beat him. But that question was soon answered as Jorge took the inside line and shut the door. The idea had obviously been a block, the move they’d all been using. And he pulled it off, but he pulled it off too well, because they both ended up sitting up, right on the edge of the asphalt, almost completely stopped, neither willing to give an inch. Nobody got hit, nobody ended up on the floor. But Dani and Dovi went past. 

They looked over their shoulders in time, checking all was clear, before almost practice starting out from the final corner and towards the line. 99 got there first by a whisker; both off the podium. _Definitely his fault, this time._ I took a few calming breaths, my priorities somewhat different to those of the team, and watched a stony-faced Lin Jarvis turn and look at me. 

_Or maybe, actually, it’s all my fault._

I was trying to tell myself it could be worse, and trying to ignore the overall feeling in the team, trying to remember they’d at least both made it to the end, when they both got back to the garage and got off the bikes in silence, walking back to their seats and pulling off their helmets in unison, Jorge then sitting with his elbows resting on his knees, scowling at the floor. I realised that I’d never been in this situation before, and I didn’t know if not saying anything would be a mistake, or if pretending I wasn’t there for a few minutes was better. After a few seconds, he looked up at me, shrugged dejectedly, and then got to his feet and wrapped me up in a hug. 

“He would have done the same.” I tried to keep my voice low and direct it into his ear, and he nodded into my neck and sighed.

“Yeah, I know. But it’s bad for the team.”

I nodded back and gave him a squeeze. “Like Motegi 2010..?”

He gave me a hint of a smirk and nodded again. And I think it was Uccio who overheard it, the whole thing going from seething silence to a sudden barrage of Italian yelling, Vale not saying much, to be fair, sat glaring at the floor and grinding his teeth, but Jorge was most certainly replying. It was too early after the adrenaline shot of the race to expect anything else, I guessed. The cameras soon caught on, and then he crossed ‘the line’. The line where before there had been a wall.

And Uccio punched him.


	13. Calling the Shots

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not very long, I know...but better schedule. (and I've already written a bit more, so :D)..
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you so much for reading/kudossing etc... hope you're still enjoying it ♥

I saw it happen almost in slow-motion, and I saw myself and Valentino sort of gravitate towards them in a last ditch ‘noooooo!’, but we were about 3 seconds too late and it happened anyway. It didn’t really make contact as it should have, because Jorge ducked back slightly, but it still hit him, and the noise reverberated around the garage for what seemed like hours before finally settling into a shocked silence. Jorge’s hands went to his face, shocked and trying to check if anything was broken, and everyone on the other side was dragging Uccio away a few feet; the Italian yelling at him again. Jorge made no attempt to hit him back, but did yell one last thing, in English, and I could tell mainly to prove he was not going to retaliate for moral reasons, machismo making a rare appearance.

“Very mature.”

Valentino was stood at the back of his side of garage facing us, hand on his hip and staring at the floor, taking a few deep breaths and head tilting slightly in the direction of his friend as the shouting continued, face somewhere between thunder and disappointment, conflicting emotions almost making him shake.

“Shut up.”

Uccio wasn’t paying attention and this time the _other_ Italian snapped. 

“I said, SHUT UP.”

That did the trick. 

Jorge looked at me, I could see in the corner of my eye, but I was looking at _him_ and wondering what the hell must be going round in his head now. Uccio was like his brother; sometimes you wanted to punch your brother’s lights out, but he was still your brother. The front of the garage was suddenly closed, and everyone felt the silence close over us, privacy just a couple of minutes too late.

“Ok.” Everyone involved seemed to have accepted that Vale was the one in the center, the one who would call the shots. Even Jorge. “Please everybody leave.”

“I don’t th-”

Something in the tone made it clear that leaving was a victory for _sense_ rather than following instructions, and he took another couple of breaths and pointed at me, and Jorge, and Uccio. “Everybody else, get out. Please. Please get out.”

They did, shockingly, sensing this was a small-group issue. Vale looked up at me, sharing the same ‘oh, they actually went’ as I had on my face, and we had that split-second spark of recognition that had used to be so common, before it got lost in everything else he was feeling. _But you looked at me._

“Ok. This is a very bad situation, we all agree. Yes?”

Everyone nodded.

“Everybody here knows the truth. All the truth…and…” Vale stared at the floor for a few more seconds, then turned back to Uccio and raised his hands, shrugging at him as if saying _what in God’s name do you think you’re doing?_ , before he looked back at Jorge.

“Are you ok?”

I felt him immediately half die from the shock and then manage to nod. “Yeah.”

“Good.” He turned back to Uccio and pointed at Jorge. “I think you should apologise to him.”

Me and Jorge looked at each other, jaws dropped. Uccio looked at him similarly, but rounded off with disgust. “What?”

“Apologise to ‘im. Is too far, to hit ‘im. Ok?”

“No! It’s-“

“Uccio, you are like my brother. But this is not for you to try and…make better. Is something I think me and Ana need to talk about. But…after this morning…after everything…is not…” He took a deep breath, like the words were incredibly difficult to say, and kept his eyes somewhere between me and Jorge. “Is not as simple as it looks. Jorge…” He said the name as only he can, and then locked his eyes on the Mallorcan’s. “I am sorry about this morning. Is dangerous to mix the, er…heart and the track.”

I didn’t think I’d ever seen a more shocked face in my life. “O-ok..”

“And I er, take my helmet off.” A very faint hint of sparkly mischief crackled out from his expression, teasing the corner of Jorge’s mouth up in response. “So you know, I mean it…”

_So you didn’t give a fuck in Jerez._ I could see his teammate face-palm internally, but still taking it the right way, mouth still curved up slightly. Which was incredible in itself. “Ok. I’m sorry I took it too far in the final corner.”

“I don’t think was too far. I think maybe it would ‘appen the same in reverse, too.” Definite sparkle. “No?”

“Maybe…” And in return.

“Definitely. So, maybe I say some things I shouldn’t say. Everybody knows why, I get angry and say things. But this is too far.” He turned back to his friend and pointed at Jorge. “You should apologise.”

“No.”

“Uccio, you hit him. Apologise.”

“I’m not fucking apologising to him! After everything-“

“You are mad because I got my heart broken, yes?”

“Yes.”

“And who did that?”

His eyes automatically turned on me, and Vale nodded. “Exactly. So, you want to hit her?”

“No!”

Something far, far stronger than the mixture of emotions from before suddenly seemed to appear on his face. “No, because you hit her, I hit you. So apologise.”

His friend was _dumbstruck_ by that. “No...”

“Then I think you should leave.”

And he did, leaving the three of us at the center everything in the center of the garage for a few seconds, before Vale coughed and looked back at us on his way out.

“See you in Misano.” 

*

It wasn’t sorted. Nothing was sorted. Not least publicly. But we ran for the airport as quickly as possible, separate flights to the same region, and by midnight I was pressing the buzzer at the gate in my soon-to-be-gone car, admittedly after lengthy directions on the phone, making us both aware that we should never get lost in a hire car together, because we would kill each other in a terrible, loud and bloody battle. Scott hadn’t found me at the airport, because he’d missed his flight, and neither of us had seen Vale since he’d left.

It was a lot warmer back in Catalunya, and Jorge appeared wearing a t shirt and jeans, smile brighter than the moon, almost sprinting over to me and scooping me up into a classic over-the-threshold, carrying me inside and then putting me down in the hallway and sweeping his arm aside to indicate my new home.

“I realised before you got here…you own half of it. And this is the first time you’ve seen it.”

He laughed at the look on my face and then wrapped his arms around me from behind, kiss planted into the crook of my neck.

“Also…Ricky is here. Asleep…but his room is far away from ours…”

_Ours._ “You say ‘his room’ like he lives here…?”

“Hmm…you know he almost did. But just tonight, because we got back late. Tomorrow, it’s just me and you.”

“Ok. Is it bad? I mean…has it been bad?”

“You mean…?” He moved his hands around to indicate ‘the world’ in general and raised his eyebrows.

“Yeah, I mean…everything.”

“Not good. Ricky was reading some tweets on the way home…I think most of Italy wants to kill me. And a lot of my fans want to kill Uccio.”

“Well, if one Italian tried and failed…” I smiled, hoping to raise the mood again, and got squeezed in return and another kiss. 

“One tried and failed. And I can’t _believe_ what happened after…”

“I can.” I pulled away and turned to face him. “Because you’re both so fucking wrong about each other…”

“Hmm.”

“Not hmmm. You’re wrong. I know it doesn’t happen often…” I grinned at him as he shrugged and nodded, smug. “But sometimes it does, and he’s one of those.”

“Maybe. We’ll see. But…are you tired? Do you want to do a tour, or do you want to go to sleep? Do you have luggage? Hungry? Do you want f-“

“Shh!” I clamped my hand over his mouth and then rolled my eyes as he licked it. “Ew. Don’t stress about stuff. I'm meant to be home, aren't I? And I’m not hungry, I’m not very tired, I can’t be arsed to get my luggage at the moment, and I know exactly what I want to do.” I pointed outside to the pool and smiled as his face lit up. 

“You’re _sure_ Ricky’s asleep...?”


	14. Todo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluff ahoy! ;)
> 
> And...
> 
> ¿Qué he hecho para merecerte? = what have I done to deserve you
> 
> todo = everything
> 
> otra vez = again
> 
> Otra vez...gracias por todo ;) ♥
> 
> AND GOD BLESS YOU NICKY ROMERO and JORGE LORENZO. ;)

_The males go in hunting parties to steal females. For the females, it pays to be loyal, even to a violent male._

I smirked at that and turned my head to the right to see if my Mallorcan was sharing the laugh, and he was. “…welcome to British television.”

He turned and smiled at me before screwing up his face. “I fucking hate it.”

“Hey!” I whacked him on the arm slightly and then snuggled back down. “Ok so…maybe a Gorilla documentary wasn’t the best introduction. But we make _Sherlock_ and _Downton Abbey_ and stuff. Some of the best TV in the world.” I stuck my tongue out, glaring, and then went slightly red at how turned on I got as he took that as an opportunity to practically give the tongue a blow job. “Eww! You have some weird kinks.”

“I don’t. It’s just that all of you is tasty. And the look in your eyes disagrees with ‘ewww’.”

He grinned and then bent his head down towards mine for another kiss before there was a cough from the other sofa and we both looked at each other and then back at Ricky.

“Sorry…again…”

“Look, I’m so happy for you. Honestly. But-“

“I know, I know. Tongue blow jobs are too far.” I grinned at the small blushing Spaniard and nodded. “ _I agree._ ”

“Well at least someone does.” The Moto2 rider gave his friend a pointed look and Jorge just grinned at him, a step too far for Ricky to ignore. He looked back down at the magazine he was reading and sniffed dramatically. “There was a time when I was the light of your world…”

“HEY.” Jorge picked up the remote and threw it across at the smaller man, either as an attack or a clandestine _please man change the channel_ , I wasn’t sure. “NO MORE OF THAT.”

Ricky just giggled like a 1950’s Catholic schoolgirl and then batted his eyelashes back at the Mallorcan. “Afraid people will talk, my love?”

“People already talk. People are still talking despite the fact that I can’t leave my house because I ran off with my teammate’s girlfriend.”

Sigh. “I just think…one day…we’re going to have to tell her.” The Catalan rider smirked at me, enjoying the fact that I didn’t give a shit, and raised his eyebrows. “I mean, I don’t mind sharing, but-“

“STOP.”

“But I th-“

“STOP IT, CARDÚS.”

He took the hint and grinned to himself before changing the channel and we ended up watching motocross highlights. I gave it a few minutes and then got up and stretched. “Ok. Drinks?”

Ricky nodded and absentmindedly pointed at his mug. “Coffee. Thanks.”

“Aren’t you interested in this?” Jorge looked up, mournful, on the verge of offering the gorillas back if I demanded it.

I looked down at him and smiled, shaking my head and rolling my eyes. “It’s not that. I just want a drink. Do we have to talk about this again?” We’d had 5 or 6 moments of basically _fuck off and stop trying to look after me, I’m supposed to live here_ already, and it was only just after lunch on Monday.

He relaxed back into the sofa and shook his head. “Sorry, sorry. Coffee.”

“Ok. If I blow up the mach-“

“If he can use it, you can use it.” Ricky laughed then swore again as something else flew at him and his sofa kingdom. “Hey, I’m just telling the truth!”

I left them squabbling in there and went through to the kitchen, managing reasonably successfully and going back in with two cups, setting one in front of each of them and then disappearing back for mine. “So…has anyone been on the internet yet?”

“I’m text tweeting so I don’t have to look.” Ricky smiled at us and shrugged. “I always get some of his shit thrown at me anyway.”

“Well, you are married to him..”

“God, finally someone understands!” He cowered back slightly as Jorge found something else to throw, this time a PS3 controller, and raised it in his hand before I grabbed it and put it back down. 

“Stop throwing things. That’s domestic violence.” I looked at him seriously and laughed at the little huff of irritation. “Awww. You know you can feel more secure now, because you have a girlfriend, right?”

That brought back the smile. “I do. I have a girlfriend.” He smiled at me and then looked around the room, frowning. “…where is she?”

I whacked him on the arm again, ignoring the mutters of _irony_ and then settled back to how we’d been before. “She’s right here, and if you forget that she’ll kill you.”

He waited a couple of minutes, hand squeezing me in closer, and then bent down to whisper in my ear. “ _You’re sure you don’t want to watch the monkeys…?_ ”

 _Maybe he needs a few days to remember we ended up here because we’re both more interested in motocross than monkeys._ I looked back up and raised my eyebrows, earning a chastised expression and a smile.

“Sorry, did it again…”

*

“Right, I need to do something constructive. Pool.”

I moaned slightly as I got gently pushed upright and then nodded. “Ok. I know, I made you lazy.”

“No, everyone needs a morning off sometimes.”

“True. Ok. Can I join you? I mean…I’ll stick to one side so you can do a Phelps in peace…”

“Yes, and…I think that’s a bit ambitious.” He stretched out towards the ceiling and smirked as he noticed me lick my lips at the couple of inches of temporarily exposed midriff. “You swim a lot, don’t you? You might beat me.”

“I do, and I doubt it.”

We both went and got changed, Ricky by this point having left, and then walked outside into the sun, blinking.

“Ok, so…your side is the left and my side is the right.” I looked at him questioningly and then smiled. “Like the bed…”

“Sounds good.”

“In that case…it is a competition.” I walked towards the edge and nodded at the water before yelling as I dived in. “And…GO!”

*

By the time I got back to my phone, I had 12 missed calls and a lot of messages, and I realised as I saw who they were from that I’d forgotten something quite big in the whole scenario.

“Fuuuuuck…”

He walked up behind me and wrapped me in a towel, head over my shoulder to see what I was looking at. “What?”

“Parents.”

“Ah…”

“Yup.” I grimaced and put the phone down again, turning to him and smiling as he wrapped me into a towel hug. “They have a few questions. Have you told yours?”

He shook his head, slightly guilty expression on his face, and then sighed. “No…I thought I’d let the media do that for me…?”

I raised an eyebrow and then shook my head. “Well I guess we know what we’re doing tonight…”

He pouted and then nodded, accepting. “Ok.”

“And also…” I pulled away and pointed at my car. “That’s still full of stuff.”

Same expression and result. “Ok.”

“And we need to talk about what we tell them. And…generally.”

“Urgh.”

I pressed my lips against the center of his chest and swirled my tongue, his skin shivering. _3, 2, 1…_

“Ok, ok!”

I left it a few seconds as he started to dry me off, then grinned. “I won again…”

*

“Hi mum.”

I felt my hand squeezed and looked down at the sprawled out MotoGP rider next to me, chin welded to his chest, long ago slipped down the sofa and feeling too lazy to shift back up, and smiled at him. _I think those little assurances may be needed quite a lot._

_“Ana!! Where the fuck have you been? I’ve been so worried! You’re on the news! Well, you’re not on the British news…but you’re on the Spanish news! And you know I don’t understand that! And I’m not calling your father to trans-”_

“Hello. Sorry, I know I should have called you-“

_“Before whatever it is happened! Never mind after, now-“_

“Ok, ok. Just be quiet a few minutes and I’ll explain.” I ran my fingers through Jorge’s hair and he looked up to lock eyes with me, silently questioning the situation. I made a face that I hope communicated something between _it could be worse_ and _I hate this so much._ It seemed to do just that and he shifted slightly so his head was resting on my legs, my hand still playing with his hair, his lips pressing a kiss against my thigh and hand drawing circles on my calf as his eyes went back to the silent TV. _God, I love you._ “Well…I think it’s on the Spanish news because-“

_“Someone called Jorge Lorenzo!”_

I sighed and nodded to myself, repeating the way my mother had said his name, more _whore-gay Lorenzo_ than how it should be done, and he laughed gently against my lap. “Yes, mother. Jorge Lorenzo. But first, I need to tell you about Vale.”

_“Have you left him, Ana? Because he was the best thing that’s ev-“_

“PLEASE, let me talk.” She went quiet and I took the opportunity I was given. “Me and Valentino wasn’t a real relationship. We were playing a couple, because he wanted the media to leave him alone about his friend Uccio, and the relationship they have…or the one it seems like they have…”

Silence.

I took a deep breath and carried on, words getting quicker and quicker. “So…yeah, it wasn’t a real relationship with Valentino, and…I fell for somebody else. His name is Jorge Lorenzo…”

Silence.

“And…I’ve just moved in with him, near Barcelona. Last night, basically. But…the media doesn’t know that we haven’t cheated on Valentino, so I’m sure they’re ripping us apart. But I-“

_“I think I’ve heard quite enough. You’re telling me that you’ve been lying to us and-“_

“I’m sorry, I felt bad. But I’m telling you the truth now, all of it. You were so happy that I’d fallen in-“

_“And it was a lie. So what’s going on with Valentino now? If you were friends, can’t he-”_

“No. Because…before…this happened…he told me he loved me. And-“

_“I can’t believe what I’m hearing.”_

“Well, you need to. It’s the truth. I don’t know what’s going to happen from now on, but…I love Jorge and I live with Jorge.”

_“This is typical. Not thinking bef-“_

“Believe me, I’ve thought about it. I’ve thought about nothing els-“

_“And this Jorge…he feels the same-“_

“Yes, mum. He feels the same.” He looked up at me again and smiled, nodding at me and squeezing my leg. “It’s not complicated for us-“

_“Well I can’t believe you’d throw away Valentino Rossi for some Spanish-“_

“Mum…Jorge Lorenzo. _Jorge Lorenzo._ Don’t you know who that is? Not that this even matters! I mean-“

_“No I don’t know who that is. I didn’t know who Val-“_

“Ok, ok. Jorge Lorenzo rides in MotoGP for Yamaha.”

_“The same as-“_

“Yeah…” I held my breath and waited for the inevitable explosion, holding the phone away from my ear slightly and waiting for it to die down. “Yes, it’s that bad. Now I need to go now, bec-“

_“Don’t you try and-“_

“I’m not trying to do anything, we have a lot of people to talk to.”

_“WE?! Is he listening to this, Ana?”_

“No…he’s sat next to me though. Say hello.” I put it on speaker and grinned at the horrified look on his face as my mother did just that.  
 _“Hello?”_

“Hello….”

 _“Hello, Jorge...I hope you’re not-“_

I rolled my eyes and cut her off by taking it on speaker again and nodding through it. “Ok, I’m going now. Love you, mum. Don’t talk to any papers or anything, and _do not_ tell _anyone_ anything other than yes: I’m with Jorge. If you _have_ to.”

She agreed, finally, and I took a deep breath as I was allowed the end the call. We sat there in a few seconds of relieved silence before he moved.

“So…” He rolled over so his face was facing up rather than away and crinkled his nose as I kissed the end of it. “That was ok? Or almost?”

“Could have been worse. Now…my dad…”

“So your dad, then my mother…” He winced and said the last words like they caused him physical discomfort. “And then my dad…”

 _I know._ “Yeah. I understand. Maybe…maybe you should call your mum before I call my dad. Leave the worst ‘til last…”

“That bad?”

I shrugged and bent down for a kiss, his hand tangling in my hair and pulling me in. _Maybe._ I sat back up and sighed. “Maybe, yeah…I don’t know.”

“Ok, I’ll call my mother.” He sat up and put his arm round me as he pulled his phone out. “She’ll be worried about whether I’ve cheated, then she’ll be incredibly happy.”

And that’s exactly what happened, and his face was positively glowing by the end of it, and I spoke to her in Spanish and she was _amazed_ that I could, and then eventually it was dad time, both of us gritting our teeth slightly.

“Who first?”

He sighed and flipped his phone between his fingers, fidgeting. “I don’t know. How bad is it going to be? With yours?”

“It could be bad…I…we don’t get on anymore. Since…well, a long time…you know the story…”

He winced and inhaled sharply at that before nodding and pressing some buttons, phone to his ear and kiss planted on my head. “Ok.” I could faintly hear it ringing, and then hear it stop. “Hola Papa. Soy yo…”

I cringed as the train of yelling began, Jorge’s face getting stormier and stormier, before eventually he just yelled _I love her and she’s moved in_ in fast Spanish and ended the call.

“Done.”

I raised my eyebrows and then shrugged at his _don’t test me on this, that will do_ kind of warning look. “Right then. Here we go….”

*

The first part was confusion, because he hadn’t heard anything about it. The second part was complete horror at the fact that I’d left Valentino, the third part even worse when he found out it was _Jorge Lorenzo_ that I’d left him for, and finally, and I knew it would be bad, because there was no way I'd trust him with the truth, there was an incredibly angry and offensive monologue about why I was an idiot, how he thought he’d raised me better than that, how you can’t do that, how I was just like my mother, how he knew I’d grow up to be disloyal because of _her_ influence…I eventually created a pause in the cacophony and said my terse but polite enough goodbye, throwing the phone into the space earlier vacated by Ricky and growling in frustration, feeling everything start to bubble up.

“I could hear some of that.” 

I nodded and took a deep breath. “Me too…”

He dignified my bad joke with a slight _ha_ and rubbed my shoulder. “Are you upset?”

 _No, that’s why I’m not looking at you._ I didn’t have to say anything else though to really give it away, he just lay down on the sofa and pulled me down in front of him, face to face, arm wrapped over and around me, voice soft and genuine, eyes sad and round.

“I’m sorry.”

I stared back at him and smiled as his thumbs wiped under my eyes. “What for?”

“For the situation.”

“It’s not your fau-“

“But if I was somebody else-“

“It’s not your fault, ok? I have you.” 

“But if-“

“Yes, there’s a million ifs. But if you weren’t you, I wouldn’t have found you. So it’s ok.”

“It’s not ok.”

“Maybe not right now.” I put my palm on his chest and looked at it for a few seconds before making eye contact again. “But it is what it is. And I love you.”

He moved a few centimeters closer and pressed our foreheads together, both of us eyes closed. “Otra vez…”

I smiled and snuggled down further, tears just about stopped, feeling we’d be there for a while and that we needed to be. “ _Te amo._ ”

 _How do you do that._ “¿Qué he hecho para merecerte?” His hand moved up my back slightly and pulled me flush against him, legs tangling slightly and breath hitting each other on the cheek. 

“Todo.”

“¿Todo?”

“Todo.”

We stared at each other for a few seconds and then relaxed into a kiss before his phone buzzed and he sighed, pulling away.

Ricky: _I think you should turn on the TV..._


	15. Corkscrewed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like it :) ♥ much love for you all, hope you're enjoying, and thank you!

He looked at me, and I looked back. “It must be something about us and Val-“

“Yeah, yeah. I know. I know.” I sighed and looked up at the ceiling, taking a moment to close my eyes and get ready. “Ok, well…it’s not going to go away.”

“We don’t have to look.”

“We shouldn’t have to hide.”

“But we do, at the moment. In a lot of ways…and this would just be one more. We said we’d-“

“I know, I know. But I can’t.” I looked back at him and took a deep breath. “You understand?”

“Yes.” He nodded and got to his feet, leaving me sat there wondering what was going on, not really thinking he could have just walked off and being proved right. He appeared a few seconds later with a bottle of whiskey and pulled me onto the floor to sit us on the rug, backs leaning against the sofa, and threw the cap of the bottle across the room. “Right. Whatever it is, we’re going to be fine.”

“You mean we’ll feel ok, or it won’t affect our relationship?”

“The second one.”

We both stared straight ahead and he took a swig, me evidently taking too long to answer to make him relax, and I grabbed the bottle after and did the same before pulling him in for a kiss and feeling the taste shared. “I didn’t mean to pause. Sorry. Whatever it says…it’s not going to affect _us_. I just-“

“Ok, in that case…it’s ok.” He picked up the remote and took another audible breath. “Ready?”

*

We’d expected to see our faces, the parc fermé kiss repeated, me in the garage, him grinning in the interview. Uccio’s punch replayed and replayed to eternity. And it was all of the above, because apparently Uccio had been banned from Yamaha. The man who had been there as long as the other longest serving man in blue had been banned from the garage, unconditionally, starting now. And it hadn’t been a leak, it had been an official statement.

“Oh my God.”

“Because of the punch?”

I turned and stared at him, incredulous, and raised my eyebrows. “You think?”

“Yeah maybe that was obvious.” Another swig. And more details appeared, fleshing out the story, making us look at each other again and pass the bottle, way too much of it gone already to not begin to hit us soon. “Knew I shouldn’t have ignored _all_ my calls." Sighed and and looked sideways at me. "So…”

“So…” I took the bottle back and finished the end of it, decision made, his eyes going wider and wider as I kept glugging and didn’t give up, voice coming out hoarse and weak, making us both smile. “We’re on the floor.”

“We are.”

“And I want to forget all about this.” I fingered the collar of his t shirt, playing up the drunkenness slightly but knowing it was going to hit me soon enough, wondering why I’d chosen the love of my life as the audience to what would surely soon be embarrassing, and looked up with my best puppy dog eyes, his shining back at me. “Can we forget all about it please? Because I hate it.”

“We can.”

I nodded, feeling it definitely starting to hit me, and then pulled myself up, I wanted to think elegantly, and straddled him, his hands going around me and waiting to see what was next, eyes widened, fairly amused, before one hand deftly moved the glass bottle out of breaking reach. I faintly thought _you know me too well_ before my brain started to shut down.

“Hello.” He smirked and raised his eyebrows. “Comfy?”

“Hiiii…” I nodded and grinned down at him, undoubtedly vacant and bleary eyed. “Yeahhh.”

“Good. Me too…” He smirked at me and the groaned slightly as I moved on his lap. “I thought you hated girls like this. All eyelashes and-“

“May-beee.” I laughed and put one finger against his lips and one hand up his shirt, feeling the smooth, inviting skin underneath, and then pressed my forehead against his. “Because sometimes I am one but they’re always prettier than me so boooooo.”

“They’re not prettier than you.” His hand found the small of my back, under my t shirt, and pulled me in a bit closer. “You’re the prettiest girl in every room.”

“Awwwwwwww.” I smiled and blushed slightly but shook my head. “I know you love me, but don’t lieeee…”

“Not lying.” He nipped my bottom lip and grinned at the way I yelped, leaning up to whisper in my ear. “Mirrror, mirror…”

“No. I’m not the fairest.” I wrapped my arms round his neck and moaned into a kiss, everything starting to blur as he was somehow lifting us both to our feet. “You are. ARGGHHHHHHH!!” _I’m fucked._

“What?!”

“Timberrrr!!”

He laughed, making us a bit unsteady on the start of the journey towards the bedroom, and shook his head. “No, we’re not falling over. We’re going to bed.”

“Bed?”

“Bed. Our bed. Where one day we might make some children together…” _Why did I say-_

“Oh beeeddd. The babbbyyyy factory.” I nodded and faked serious for a few seconds, clumsy and overly theatrical and loving it, only distantly aware I was out of my mind. “WAIT!”

_Baby factory._ He stopped dead and stared at me. “Yes?”

“YOU’RE NOT DRUNK.”

“No, not much.” He chuckled at me and tightened his grip; we were now approaching the stairs and back in motion. “Now hold on and please don’t make us fall over…”

“I already fell. I fell for you…”

“That’s sweet but keep still.”

I made a face and nodded sullenly, grinning again once we were at the stop. “You’re soooo stronggg and big and tall.”

“Not tall.”

“Taller than Daniii.”

“Yeah.” He laughed slightly and nodded. “Taller than Daniiii.” _I swear to God if he’s ever carried you like this I will kill him._ We reached the bedroom door and he lightly kicked it open, me now fully wrapped around him like a child who had fallen asleep and was being taken to bed. “But not tall.”

“But BIG.” I moved my head back to stare into his eyes again and giggled. “Soo-“

“Don’t.” He grinned and raised his eyebrows. “Don’t start a penis conversation. You need sleep.”

“SHHHH. I’M HUNGRY. TASTY PENIS.”

“Oh my God! You are _fucked_ aren’t you?!” He grinned and then melted into a kiss for a minute, shifting our weight to manage to keep me in the air.

“Yassss. Tasty. I like whiskey and Jorge Lorenzo.”

“I like whiskey and you.”

“Jor-ge Lo-ren-zo.” I repeated it like I’d learnt it for the first time. “Jorr-ge Lo-ren-zoooo.”

“I’m here.”

“Did we reach the baby factory yet, Mister Jor-ge Lor-en-zo?”

He went slightly red and then nodded, giggling at my complete stupidity, putting me down on the edge of the bed with wide eyes as I kind of collapsed backwards like a target shot on the range. “Oh my God. Months and months of waiting for you to be in my bed and then you died.”

My sense of humour was still alive, somewhere, and I shot back up, dizziness a price paid, and grinned. “Ta-dah!!”

That sent him giggling again. “Ok, I think we need to get your clothes off.”

“Pleassseeee…”

“For practical reasons…”

“Yeah it will be easier to get it in…”

“Ana. You are killing me.” His hand was on his forehead, blushing I wasn’t sure why, still giggling. “Please let’s sleep this off and tomorrow-“

“Shhh shh shhhh. No. No tomorrow. Just now…and you’re not drunk!”

“Not much, no!” He sounded defensive and faintly camp.

“And you said we should make babies!!” My mouth rounded into an ‘o’ and I all but slapped myself on the face putting my hand over it. “BABIES?!”

“Y-yeah.” More giggles.

“But I’m drunk-“

“I didn’t mean now!“

“No, I mean you’re SERIOUS.”

“Well, yeah. One day. Not today, don’t worry. Not tomo-“

“SHH!! No tomorrow.” 

“Sorry.”

“Why are you stood over there?” I cocked my head to one side and frowned, pouting. “Baby?”

_Baby._ He kind of waved his hands at me as if unsure what to do. “Because…”

“I PROMISE I won’t be sick. It’s not that bad. I’m just a bit crazy. But definitely NO VOMIT. Pinkie swear.“ I wagged my hand at him unspecifically and grinned.

He kind of half face-palmed and shook his head at me affectionately. “It’s not that. I just…I don’t want to take adv-“

“OH MY GOD SERIOUSLY?! COME HERE! NOW.”

He did as he was told fairly slowly and I grabbed one hand in each of mine so he couldn’t escape. “You know I’m ALL YOURS.”

“But you’re dr-“

“YEAH I’M DRUNK AND HAPPY AND STUPID. BUT I LOVE YOU AND I WANT YOU. NOWWWW.”

“You have me, but-“

“NO.” I grabbed the front of his t shirt, maybe a bit rougher than I should have, and somehow managed to get us on the bed, me staring up at him, grinning. “STOP. Please…” I lowered my voice and wriggled slightly. “Just stop being all…’ooooh Casey I agree with you oohhh naughty don’t hit me’ and be more…Jorge. I love _him._ ”

His jaw dropped open and he grinned down at me. “Excuse me?!”

“You heard me!” I wrapped my legs around his waist and wiggled my eyebrows. “I want you to corkscrew me. Really, really, really, really, really, really-”

“Corkscrew you.”

“Corkscrew me!!!” I nodded emphatically and wriggled again as he finally responded, kissing down my neck. “Wooooo!!!!!!! We’re back in businesss!!!!”

“God.” He laughed and stopped, leaning against me and shaking his head slightly. “I should have videoed all of this.”

“But the show didn’t start yet!”

“Not that bit!” He lay down on the bed next to me and sighed contentedly as I climbed straight back on, hands on my ass, staring at me, amused, maybe more than slightly turned on and in awe at the difference in the person sat on him. “Just I don’t think I’ve ever seen you drunk before…”

“Liar!”

“What?!”

“Lie. You saw me drunk in Assen when that side of the garage went crazy and I nearly _nearly_ came over to you and-”

“Ok, yeah…but not like this…”

“MAYBE NOT.” I grinned and then pulled my t shirt off. “ _Definitely_ not like _this_.”

“Definitely not like this.” He shook his head and let his eyes wander. “Why?”

“BECAUSE…” I tugged at his t shirt and somehow wrangled him out of it. “I didn’t drink anything else with you there! BECAUSE…I would have TOLD YOU. OOPS!”

“Told me?”

“TOLD YOU THAT I LOVED YOU! And THAT was all SHHHHHHHHHH.”

“It was.” _Thank God it’s not shhhhh anymore._ “It was shhhhhhhh.”

“But now…” I nodded at him as his fingers clasped on my bra and paused, then it clicked open and we threw it on the floor. “Now it’s going to be LOUD. No more SHHHH for me!”

“Is that a promise?”

“I promise. Promise promise promise promise. I’ll scrreeaammm! But I won’t lie.” I leant down and left a kiss for him to think about. “If you want me to be loud, you’ve got to make it _happen_. Like Saturday, and yesterday…and this morning…and this morning again…and Saturday again…”

“Corkscrewed.”

“Stekkenwal-ed, Copsed, CORKSCREWED.” I laughed and then grinned as my brain gave me one last bout of wit, bending down to whisper in his ear. “ _Dry sacked._ ”

He pushed some hair off my face and then pulled my head down towards his, gentle, giggling into my mouth, whiskey taste still haunting us, and nodded. “Ok. I’ll do my best.” 

And I thought it was the perfect moment to say one more thing.

“I think your best is _the_ best.” I sat up again and traced his collarbone with my fingers. “The best I’ve ever had and it would be a pleasure to make babies with you.” I nodded and smiled, all cheesy and really not aware of what I was saying. “Babies! But not _now_.”

“No, not now.” He nodded solemnly and then grinned again. “I’m going to ask if you remember this conversation in the morning…”

“I will.” I nodded again and smiled as he moved us so he was on top of me, life much steadier when I was the one lying down. “I already though that yes maybe we could make little Lorenzos.”

_I really hope you’re telling the truth._ “Good, because I want those.”

“I WANT THOSE TOO!”

“Ok, ok, I believe you!” He moaned slightly as I worked my hand under the waistband of his jeans. 

“Ohhhhhh…there we are!” I arched my back up and raised my eyebrows. “Ok baby, more ooohhhhhhhhhhh please…”

_Baby._ He shook his head again in frustrated love and took a deep breath. “I love you. You’re insane.”

I nodded and grinned. “Crazzzzyyy, crazzzzyyy but not so lonely…..” I sang it and watched him melt into giggles again. “Because I have you now and I don’t get left on the sofa with a blanket I get carried away to the baby factory and…” I trailed off so the next part was more a commentary. “…showered with kisses.”

“Yes.” One on the end of my nose. “Yes you do.”

*

"Wake up."

Nothing.

"Ana. Ana...wake up."

"No." _OH GOD._

"Ana..."

"Give up. She went away on a journey and I'm her evil twin. Fuck OFF." I groaned again and turned my face into the pillow. _Nooooooooooooooo._

"ANA, WAKE UP."

"Pffffffff where is my tea! I want a cup of tea if you want my eyes to open."

"Then I think you should open your eyes now..."

"I want to die. I'm so hungry. I don't have the energy to open my eyes."

"Ok...firstly...Ricky is in the room because he helped. Secon-"

My eyes shot open and I sat up. "Oh! Morning Ricky!" I flattened my hair down and then went red as he howled at me, feeling the pain of sitting up. "Nooo! Fuck off. I'm ill."

"You're not ill." Jorge sat down on the bed next to me and shook his head. "You definitely did this to yourself."

"Maybe a bit." Pout.

"Maybe a LOT." The Mallorcan grinned at me and helped with the hair patting down. "We brought you breakfast. We're going training."

_Awwwwww._ "I love you."

Ricky looked up from his phone and grinned. "Aww. I love you too!"

I flipped him off and felt my stomach rumble as my eyes looked over the tray. "Ooooooooh!"

"You're not mad I'm not having breakfast with you?"

I frowned at him and shook my head, like _whaaa?_ "No?! You have stuff to do."

"Oh. Ok. Good." He smiled and then reversed his hard work and ruffled my hair, planting a kiss on my head. "If you throw up, call the cleaner."

"I won't! Throw up. I would call the cleaner."

"Good. Right way round." He got back to his feet and then looked at his friend. "Ready?"

"Yup. Goodbye Anita. I hope you're still alive when when we get back..."

"Me too." I nodded and smiled at him, waving them off, just catching the conversation as they disappeared and smiling, despite the pain.

_"She said she loved you."_

_"Yeah?!"_

_"You didn't reply._

_"Oh! Fuck."_ "BYE! LOVE YOU!" _"I thought you meant you were shocked."_

_"I'm shocked she loves you but I'm not shocked you love her."_

Pause.

_"OWWW!"_

_Awwww._ I laughed to myself and took a deep breath, surveying my tasty kingdom. "I'm not shocked I love you."


	16. Siege

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading/kudossing/commenting and I hope you are enjoying it.
> 
> If you are, or if you aren't, please let me know ;) [here or on tumblr, feel free to yell ♥ ]
> 
> And there will be more Vale soon. I've not forgotten him! ;)

The whole first week was bliss 99% of the time. After the news about Uccio, we’d decided to take half an hour every day to check twitter and social media, and news and headlines about us, so we could check we were on top of it. It was painful, and some of the stuff was shocking, but we promised we wouldn’t let it affect us after an hour. That was it. Check, cool off, and then ignore. And it was working pretty well, except that staying in or at the house, glorious as the privacy was, was starting to drive us insane. By Friday, I had decided that we were going to have lunch outside the walls of the property, and basically, Jorge either went willingly or was forcibly kidnapped.

“I don’t like either option, because both end up with us in public together. In Catalunya. In the city. In front of a lot of eyes.”

“I know. But the restaurant will give us a private area…or, near enough…”

“But what about driving there and everything? We’re going to get chased.”

“Maybe. I guess that’s a risk we have to take.”

“But I mean…at traffic lights…things like that…we’re not going to be able to escape.”

“I know.”

“I don’t want to do it.” He’d started off nervous, now the idea of being in a car chase around Barcelona was horrible. “Please…”

“Well what can we do? Seriously?” Stubborn Lorenzo was out in force but then so was stubborn me. “I want to go and have lunch with you. I’m not being intimid-“

“I am. I’m the one everyone wants dead.”

“Yeah, I know. Don’t you have tinted windows?”

“No.”

“Well...that was a stupid fucking decision.” I rolled my eyes and smiled as a smile finally cracked his face too. “Why didn’t you forward plan running off with me better?!”

“Sorry…”

“Yeah, well.” He watched as my eyes lit up as I had an idea, nervousness actively on his face, something saying _I know that look and shiiiit._ “Yeah, I had an idea…”

“I know…”

“You don’t have a bike licence.”

He shook his head and stared for a few seconds then slumped, hands rubbing over his face in horror. “Oh God…”

“Don’t trust me?”

“Hmmm…”

“Don’t trust me…? Baby?” I gave him puppy dog eyes and put my hands around his waist, waiting for the eye contact. “Hmm?”

“Hmm...”

“We don’t have to go to the city. Maybe the coast? Seaside restaurant. We go, we get off wherever we want, we eat, and then we run…”

“Hmm…”

“You know I’m ok, right?”

“Hmmm…”

“You know I’m more than used to riding people around, riding myself around…”

“Hmm…”

“LOOK AT ME.”

His eyes finally focused properly on mine and he sighed, nervous and excited at once, nervous most definitely winning. “Ok…” Gulp. “Ok, ok. We’ll go on the bike.”

My mouth dropped open, genuinely having expected a war about it. “REALLY?!”

“Yeah, ok.” Sigh. “Ok…”

He walked off and started getting stuff together, me watching and feeling the fear start to hit as I realised I had to ride Jorge Lorenzo, _Jorge Lorenzo_ , 3 times world champion so far, through throngs of traffic, to find a random restaurant along the coast that I didn’t know very well at all.

“Ok I changed my mind.”

He obviously kind of had too, and looked up with an evil grin, throwing my leathers over the back of the sofa. 

“Too late. And for every mistake, you will be punished.”

I felt my mouth drop open and then grinned at him. “Oh, well…that’s not much incentive to do well…”

“Oh, I know. But I was thinking more…if you scare me, even once…you’ll wake up tomorrow wearing a python.”

“YOU WOULDN’T.”

“I would, and I will. I like my life.” Grin. “Especially now. So if you even try and end it once-“

“I won’t! God, Lorenzo. You have serious trust issues.”

“I know.”

The mood suddenly turned serious at the softness of the way he said it, and I smiled at him sadly and walked over to wrap him up, or, given the height difference, to be wrapped up. “Sorry baby. I didn’t mean-“

“It’s ok, it’s true.”

“Oh, I know.” We both laughed slightly before I pulled away and looked up. “I was going to say I didn’t mean to bring it up…”

“Pfff. Fine.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I’m way more screwed than you.” I looked at his face and shook my head. "Don't make that joke."

*

We went on the bike, and it was _terrifying_. I’d not missed a gear for probably over 5 years and I managed to miss two before we were even off the road from the house, which was surprisingly empty. Being Jorge Lorenzo, he had fancy equipment, so we had radios and after I’d done it again, he came over the link asking me to pull over. I gritted my teeth and acquiesced, leaving us standing face to face, visors up.

“What? Sorry I-“

“No, I didn’t pull us over to complain. I pulled us over to say…just relax. I trust you. I have issues, but they’re gone. Well, they’re being ignored. I trust you, you can do this, and you can do it well. So stop shaking. _I love you_ , I’m not going to judge you if you make a mistake. I’ve crashed, hit people, missed gears…it’s fine.”

“But you’re a World Cha-“

“Yeah. I am. But you didn’t judge me for starting that fire on Tuesday, did you?”

I smiled to myself and shook my head. “Maybe not…”

“So, I can’t cook. But I’m not nervous in front of you even though you can. And you _can_ ride. So calm down, and let’s go.”

“Ok.” I nodded and felt myself start to relax. “Ok, yeah. Let’s go.”

And we did, and I didn’t miss any more, and I only made him scream once. Although I maintain that I had a better view of the gap and it was perfectly safe. 

We had lunch on a terrace overlooking the sea, and nobody had any idea who we were until we were sat there, by which time we were customers and not just _Jorge Lorenzo and that girl_ , so we managed to get left alone. And even if we hadn't, neither of us were paying much attention to anything but each other, finally getting a moment where we didn't feel like we had to hide. We then rode back in relative peace, too, and on the way back he didn’t scream, which I took as a good sign that hopefully meant no snakes.

*

“Let me guess.” I looked up at Jorge and rolled my eyes as I spoke into the phone, grinning. “This is a drunk Scott Redding.”

_“Maybe! Pffff. A bit. Quite a bit. Hiiii….”_

“Hello drunk Scott Redding.” I got up from the sofa and walked outside, sitting down at the edge of the pool and dangling my feet in, air temperature still meaning that was pleasant rather than cold. “It’s 1136pm.”

_“And you weren’t asleep!!”_ There was a muffled _told you she’d be awake_ directed to someone else, and then the voice got louder again. _“So I win.”_

“Yes, you win.”

_“Woooo! I like winning.”_

“I know, sweetheart. So why are you calling?”

_“I like you and I’m bored. And I want to talk normal English.”_

“Well that will never happen…”

_“Fuck off.”_

“Ok, bye.” I grinned and cancelled the call, only having to wait 3 or 4 seconds before it rang again. 

_“Hey! Why did you do that?”_

“Just following instructions…”

_“I said ‘fuck off’, not ‘break my heart’...”_

“Jesus Christ, Scott. You need to stop flirting with me.”

_“I don’t want to. I like it.”_

“I like it too because I’m a few years older than you and I’m flattered. But stop. I’m in a relationship.”

_“Hmmm aren’t we all.”_

“No, we’re not. You’re not.”

_“It’s a figure of speech.”_

“…that doesn’t make sense.”

_“Leave me alone!”_ He laughed to himself and I could hear the cheeky grin from 50 miles away. _“Just thought I’d tell you about my day…really good day with the boyssss…motocross…you should come.”_

“I don’t think I’d be able to keep up.”

_“Because you’re a girl or because you’re shit?”_

I laughed and shook my head, along with another rolling of my eyes. “Fuck off. Because I’m shit.”

_“You’re not shit. And I was going to play you at your own game then and put the phone down but you wouldn’t call me back, would you?”_

“Probably not.”

_“Do you have to be so mean?”_

“Sorry, I’m just a girl…”

_“Sorry! God I was only joking.”_

“Well there are better things to call me out on…”

_“Like Lorrrrrenzoooo?”_

“Yeah. Like Lorenzo.”

_“Sorry I missed my flight.”_

“Well, I cried in the airport. I had them call for you on the tannoy…it was the worst day of my life.”

_“Sorry babe. I have tissues if you want them…”_

“I think you’ll need them if you’re going home alone.” I cringed, grinning, as a loud _oooohhhhhh!_ echoed back at me. 

_“That was harsh.”_

“Maybe. But called for.”

_“No. Please don’t be mean…I like you. I mean…other than the fact that you’re hot, I actually like you.”_

“Wow you have such a way with words.”

_“I’m drunk and stupid.”_

“Yup.”

_“Awwwww.”_

I sighed and took a deep breath, enjoying the rigmarole much more than I wanted to admit, especially the fluent, although questionable, English, having spent most the week in Spanish.. “Sorry. _Babe._ “

_“That’s more like it. Now, I want to know about Mr Lorrrenzoooo.”_

“I might not tell you when you’re sober and I’m definitely not going to tell you when you’re drunk.”

_“Pfff. I’m trustworthy!”_

“Yeah, I think you are.” There was an impressed little _oh_ from down the line and I smiled again. “But now isn’t the time.”

_“But you’re a thing?”_

“Yeah, we are. We moved in together on Sunday night.”

_“Fuuuuuuck…”_

“Yup.”

_“Seriously? I mean…seriously?”_

“Seriously. We’re in a kind of siege situation.”

_“So you’re there now? HI JORGE!”_

I moved the phone away from my ear and laughed. “I am there now, but I’m outside. He’s inside.”

_“Oh. Boo. Is he a knob?”_

“Scott!”

_“What?!”_

“I wouldn’t move in with someone if they were a knob, would I? And if anyone is a knob, it’s you. Knob.”

_“I’m only joking! He just…I don’t know…you…and him? You and Vale, yeah. But you and him…”_

“Can’t see it?”

_“Nope. I think you should run away with me.”_

“Not going to happen. I love him. We’re happy. Other than the…PR situation.”

_“So you really left Valentino for him?”_

“It’s not as simple as that.”

_“Why?”_

“It just isn’t. And I already said I’m not talking about this now.”

_“Fine. Ok. But he’s nice and you like him.”_

“He’s amazing and I love him.”

_“God, rub it in. But good. He’s nice to you?”_

“Yes, he is nice to me. We love each other.”

_“Just checking.”_

“Are you trying to check I’ve not been kidnapped or something?”

_“Not kidnapped. Just want to check he’s treating you right.”_

_Awww._ I smiled at the perfect timing as Jorge appeared next to me with a glass of wine, mirroring how I was sat and nudging me on the shoulder. “That’s very sweet.” _Both of you._ “But yes he is treating me right.” The Mallorcan looked at me and raised his eyebrows as I shrugged and grinned. “In fact, he’s here now, so you can ask him yourself.” I put it on speaker and bit my lip to stop laughing as the cocky confidence got replaced by definite intimidation.

_“Hello?”_

Jorge looked at the phone and then at me before raising his eyebrows again and replying. “Hello.”

_“It’s Scott.”_

“I know.”

_“Just wanted to check you’re being nice to Ana. Because Ana is nice.”_

“I agree.” He pulled me closer and kissed my forehead. “And I think I’m doing ok. Thank you for checking.” He giggled and I heard Scott get flustered again.

_“All good.”_

“Ok.” I took it off speaker and put the phone back to my ear. “I think you should leave us to our skinny dipping now.”

_“Too much information!”_

“Jealous?”

_“YES.”_

I laughed at that and nodded at Jorge, whose face was now sparkling with a mixture of happy surprise and lust. “Ok, fair enough. Well played, and goodnight.”

_“Goodnight. And I meant it. Hope you’re happy. I don’t believe you’ve been a slut…so…you know…”_

_Choice of words eloquent as always._ “Flattery.”

_“Sorry I’m drunk but I mean it. And…if you do fancy getting a bit dirty when you’re bored, give me a call. I think you’d do ok. More than ok. And motocross is fun. Despite your vagina.”_

I laughed and nodded and that, taking a sip of wine and shrugging at the puzzled face next to me. “Thank you very much. I’ll bear that in mind. Bye, Scotty.”

Something obviously distracted him slightly on the other end of the line and there was a muffled _beam me up_ before the phone went dead and I put it down, sighing and grinning, looking up with raised eyebrows, again, trying to read his face. “Ok?”

“Not jealous at all.” He took a theatrical deep breath and then grinned, not the reaction part of me had been expecting. _I'm impressed._ “Watching you flirt with a child...”

“Hey! He almost is. But he’s also good fun, and nice.”

"Ok. Should I be worried?”

I nodded and pushed the phone further away, reading the look on his face perfectly this time. “Very worr-“ 

And then got pushed into the pool.


	17. Jealousy Is No More Than Feeling Alone Against Smiling Enemies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it was ages again...I need a kick to get myself into this one ;) it's never quite as simple to write ♥
> 
> Thanks so much for everything so far ♥ I hope you're liking it? ...the feedback on this one seems worryingly quiet. Anything, at all, including criticism!! is very much appreciated ♥

Monday, 1am 

I shivered as I took another drag and looked up towards the sky. _Guilt. So much guilt, in all directions._ The weekend plans – whatever they had been I still didn’t know – had been postponed after we’d had a bit of a fight – nothing that hadn’t immediately been solved – but we’d broken the social media and online horror rule and seriously traumatised ourselves. And then Vale had done an interview in which he really made no attempt to improve the situation at all, and the mood got claustrophobic enough for me to eventually accept Scott’s invite to motocross. And I’d earnt a fair few bruises, laughed a lot, and had a day that made me feel like I was 18 and single and far away from my life. Not that my life was bad. My life was incredible, there was just a _lot_ of it, so the break was good. And then we went for food, and then we went to a bar, and then suddenly it was past midnight and I was making the call.

“Hi it’s me. I’m not coming home tonight.”

_“What?”_

“It’s late. I really want some beer, and I’m knackered. So I’m going to get a room here.”

And he _lost_ his _mind._

*

Tuesday, 10am

Jorge: _Baby I’m sorry please please come home._

Jorge: _Or please just pick up the phone??_

Jorge: _Please…_

Jorge: _Come on…this is stupid. I know I was an idiot last night but if we talk about it or…if you talk to me…we can sort it. Please…_

_6 missed calls_

_Jorge 10:03_

_Jorge 10:03_

_Jorge 10:03_

_Jorge 10:04_

_Ricky 10:04_

_Jorge 10:04_

Jorge: _I’m not fucking joking, I’m going to call Marc VDS in 5 minutes and find out where he is._

Jorge: _Ok that sounded like I meant to go and kill him or something. I mean to find you. I trust you._

Jorge: _Please._

Ricky: _If I can help, he’s actually crying and feels very guilty._

Jorge: _I didn’t ask him to send that._

_3 missed calls_

_Jorge 10:05_

_Jorge 10:06_

_Jorge 10:06_

“ANA. WAKE THE FUCK UP.” 

I seemed to hear that more than the phone and sat bolt upright, eyes wide, no clue what was happening. “URGH. What?!”

“Ah. There you go. Morning.”

I stared at him, let my eyes wander from mischievous eyes, down over his neck, over his chest and tattoos and torso, hips and boxers, and then started to _panic._ “WHAT.”

“Morning.” He grinned and stared at the look on my face. “Sleep well?”

*

“I can’t believe I’ve done this.”

_It’s probably what every single other person who knows you was waiting to happen, but ok._ “It’s not that bad. You don’t even know that she’s ignoring you. She might be asleep. You did argue until past 2.”

“Don’t.” Jorge shook his head and sighed. “Don’t. I know I’ve fucked up.”

“Yeah. You have. But-“

“No, just don’t.” He shook his head and got to his feet, heading back into the kitchen to stare into another cup of coffee. “Just don’t.”

*

“Stop staring at me like that.” 

“I’m very confused. And terrified.”

“And you think you’re going to find the answer somewhere here?” He smirked at me as he watched my eyes trace his finger over his tattoos. “Hmm?”

“STOP.” I wrenched my eyes back up to his and threw back the covers, feeling infinitely better that I was still wearing all my clothes. To a painful degree including bra. “Why why why are you here?”

“I’m more interested in how you’re not throwing up everywhere right now. Very impressive.”

“Uurggh.” That kind of hit me at once and I sat on the end of the bed, patting at my hair, hand briefly over my mouth. “Fair enough.”

“I would have let you sleep but your phone’s going insane and check out is 11.”

I started to laugh at that, something about the simple, blunt way he’d said it reminding me of why I still had my clothes on and always, always would, before the memory of everything before I’d gone to sleep really started to sink in. _Oh God._

“I’m going to get food. There’s shampoo and stuff in the shower.”

“I’ll take that as a hint. Thanks.”

“Didn’t mean it like that.” He grinned and blew me a kiss as he skirted round the door and then closed it, leaving me groaning again. _Oh God._

Phone. _Definitely need to talk to you right now._ I fished it out and lay back on the bed, cringing as I saw the list of everything, calls and texts and voicemails, and then finally pressed ‘call’ and held my breath.

_“You called back.”_

“Yeah.” _Sandpaper._ Cough. “Yes. I called back. I was asleep, stop panicking.”

_“What?”_

“I was asleep. I would have answered the first call.” There was a kind of squeak from down the line that I interpreted to be a whimper of him trying not to cry and I felt my heart do a little somersault. “Jorge.”

_“Yeah.”_

“You were a dick. But nothing’s broken.”

_“Really?”_

“Really. I’m going to go and get breakfast now and I’ll be back home soon.”

_Home. “Ok.”_

_And you’re not going to ask for more, because you know I could very well have not answered._ “Ok. Love you, see you soon.”

_“Love you too.”_ There was an audible sigh of relief before a slight cough. _“Sorry.”_

“It’s not quite ok but we’ll talk when I get back.”

_“Or….”_ I could hear the cogs ticking over in his brain. _“I could come and meet you. Because I know what you said about feeling really claustrophobic here…?”_

“I look like shit.” _But the gesture means a lot._

_“Not possible.”_

I smiled at that and took a deep breath, thinking that through. “You know what? Yeah. I’ll meet you at that restaurant we went to before.”

_“Ok. Ok, yes.”_ There was a pause that I knew meant one of two things, second option confirmed and sheepish. _“Can you text me the address…?”_

I smiled to myself and nodded. “Yes I can. See you there in an hour?”

_“Ok. Love you. Sorr-“_

“Bye.” I cut him off and put the phone down, aware that was maybe a bit harsh but also not wanting him to think it was fine to fly into an hour’s worth of jealous rage down the phone. _Bye bye._

*

“Loverboy still crying down the phone?”

I glared at that and shook my head, taking a seat opposite him. “No. We’re fine, thank you.”

“Just checking. Planning my attack.”

“Your attack will always be deflected.”

“I know.” He grinned at me and shoved more bread into his mouth, somehow not looking too gross. “But I’m staying on Plan Espargaro.”

“Do I even want to know?”

“NEVER GIVE UP.” He smacked his chest and then grinned at my eye roll. “No but honestly…I’m glad you’re ok. Must be fairly serious to leave _Valentino Rossi_ for him…”

_Oh yeah. You don’t know._ “It’s not quite as it seems. Nobody cheated. But it’s very serious, and very long term.” _I need to talk to Nicky. Nicky would help. Nicky's voice would possibly even ease my hangover._

“So where’s the ring?”

“Fuck off.” I took another sip of coffee and groaned as Callum appeared and poked me in the shoulder on his way past. _Not another one._ “I don’t know. Maybe it will be there one day, maybe not. But he will be, and I will be.”

“Ok, ok. I get it. I just like teasing.”

“Yeah I know.” _I really know._

“So on that note…couldn’t help but overhear some of the calls last night-“

“Yeah it wasn’t pretty. But he’s-“

“No, no, no. Didn’t hear any of that. Heard the one that ended with _ciao_ though…” He levelled his eyes at me across the table and raised an eyebrow. “Not as simple as it seems, you say…”

_Fuck._ I took a deep breath and felt my memory of all of that start to come back. _Fuck._ “No, it’s not. Yes, I talked to _him_ , no I’m not cheating on Jorge.”

“None of my business.” He grinned again and attacked some more food. “But I’m guessing you don’t want anyone _else_ knowing about that…?”

_Trust issues._ “No, I don’t. Yet.”

“Yet?”

“It’s complicated.”

“Hmmm.”

“Scott?”

"Hmm?"

“Don’t you fucking say a word. I mean it.”

His eyes widened at my tone and he nodded. “Promise. Lips are sealed.”

“Ok.” _Is it?_ “Ok. Promise?”

“Promise.”

_Definitely Nicky._

*

He was late, a bit. Which I had been expecting, a bit. But he arrived, and got out the car, and walked over to where I was stood silently under the sun, flashes of light glinting off his sunglasses, before he took them off and shrugged sheepishly, slightly desperately, stood in front of me, eyes on mine, both slightly red. “I’m really-“

“I know.”

“But I mean-“

“No, I know. I know.” I nodded and took his hands. “Like I said, I think we need to talk about it. Because I had a good time, well…until then. I had a good time and there was no hint of anything. Ok? I don’t have to justify it and I won’t justify it again, but-“

“No, I know. It’s-“

“Don’t. Just let me talk.”

“Sorry.” He nodded and squeezed my hands, seemingly to remind himself I was really there. “Carry on.”

“Ok. But…I slept in Scott’s room. He had a twin room, and I slept there. Slightly drunk, upset. And in my clothes. Which is why I look like this.” I studied his face for the reaction to that and saw the jealousy flare again before he seemed to control it. “But if you seriously think that I would ever _ever_ do anything in that situation, then this isn’t going to work. I mean it. I love you. I love you _so_ much, but that doesn’t mean you control me. It means I can go wherever I want and do whatever I want, and the only thing that should make us feel is like we miss each other.”

“I missed you. I seriously missed you.”

“And I missed you. But we can’t be together every single day for the next 50 years. Like we said…I’m going to follow you and I’ll be there. I’ll always be there, in person or on the end of the phone. But you share my life, you don’t control it. You understand?”

“I understand. And I’m sorry.”

_Good because I’m going to Italy soon, without you._ “Good.” _But we’ll talk about that later._ “Ok sorry I’ll stop being a bitch now.” I smiled up at him and watched the _sorry_ in his eyes defrost into a pool of relief, smile on my face genuine and expectant.

“I think it was deserved...”

“Maybe. But you weren’t mean.”

“What?”

“Even when you were angry, you weren’t mean.” 

“Why would I be-“

“Babe, I don’t know either.” I grinned at the smile coming back onto his face and nodded, hands going round his neck. “I don’t know why people are mean to people they love when they’re angry. On purpose. I don’t know why they think that makes a point. I don’t know why people smile when they’re unhappy. I don’t know why people say the opposite of what they mean.”

“I don’t know why I panicked.”

“I do.” I nodded and accepted the kiss, resting my forehead against his, breathing him in and feeling his hands wrap around my waist. “That’s why I know that you’re sorry, and we’re fine.”

He nodded and moved both our heads with it before pressing another kiss on my lips. “That’s why I panicked.”

"I know." I nodded and pulled him inside behind me, squeezing his hand in reassurance as the eyes of the fellow diners turned on us. 

_Full house, today. I hope you don't get a show._


	18. Echoes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ♥ another one! Thanks for everything, guys! :)

Lunch was nice. Lunch was more than nice, bookended by not-so-nice, but all those little things that let you know how loved you were were out in force, hand grabbed across the table, eyes always on yours, something silently being said, hand brushing your knee under the table, smiles for no real reason. _Please let that last. When I say the words ‘I’ and ‘Tavullia’ in the same sentence._

We had a table in the corner of the terrace where we had been before, that at least giving us some privacy from the quite large amount of other people in the restaurant. The walk through from the door to the terrace had been interesting, the words _Rossi_ , _Lorenzo_ , _girlfriend_ and _cheat_ surrounding us in whispery echoes, Jorge’s jaw clenching as his heard it, face grim but determined but a whole host of emotions there to be counted if you tried, hand squeezing mine tighter than ever, responding as I gave it a quick calming squeeze in response, feeling like soldiers going over the top of the trench. 

I didn’t know if that was going to play in my favour or not, because I was going to Italy, yes, but hopefully to sort it out and talk about it. And sorting it out would hopefully eventually filter through from us, to the press, to the fans, to the people who sat in restaurants being rude to strangers whose lives that had no idea about, which was positive. But going to Italy, especially after the panic of me spending even 8 hours of darkness with Scott Redding, wasn’t as simple as that. And the reactions could go that way, too, and make him regret even leaving the front door and not want either of us to ever again. Because it had been a battle, and had surprised me a lot. I knew the Jorge behind the racer very, very well, and knew that the image of _I don’t give a shit, say what you want_ was just that, an image, but the power of his nerves at being confronted by it face to face was more than I’d expected and had left us holed up inside for longer than I’d thought. Hence why we were here, some of his fears confirmed, some of mine still trying to figure out if they would be, too.

“There’s something else we need to talk about when we get home.”

_Home._ “Ok…?”

I watched the nervous guard go back up in his eyes and sighed, intertwining our fingers across the table. “Don’t do that.”

“What?”

“I can see it. You seem to forget that I can read you like a book.”

“Ha. Nerves?”

“Hmm. Nerves, but…when your guard goes up. I can see it like you’re yelling it straight in my face.”

“Sorry.” Sigh. “I’m on edge.”

“I know.” I squeezed his hand and smiled as he pulled it to his lips to kiss the back of mine. “But it’s fine. Relax. No one tried to kill us on the way in, we’re here together, and none of that is under threat. Ok?”

“Hmm.”

“Jorge Lorenzo Guerrero, when you answer me you’d better say it like you mean it.”

He smiled at that, guard back down, and nodded. “Sorry. Ok. Good.”

“Right. Good. Now…shall we use my bank card for the first time?”

“You’ve not used it yet?!”

“I love that you haven’t checked, but no. I’ve been using mine.”

“That is yours. And no I haven’t checked!”

“You know what I mean.”

“Hmm.”

“JORGE.”

“OK!” He laughed at that, stretching slightly in the chair now I’d taken my hand back to get out my wallet, and nodded. “Sorry! Yes, use it. And leave a big tip.”

“How big is too big?”

He grinned at that and glanced down at his lap before locking his eyes back on mine. “Well I don’t know, you tell me…”

“Oh dear.” I laughed at that and nodded, getting the waiter’s attention and then paying the bill, following the instructions and leaving a considerable tip, before we both took a deep breath, like we were preparing to dive under or something, and walked back through the people. Same whispers, same hand squeeze, not the same expression. Just a little bit more _feel free to judge, I don’t care._

But then we got back to his car, and I gritted my teeth as he ripped his sunglasses off and inspected the damage. _Ouch._ The bonnet now had a large 46 keyed into it. 

_Ouch ouch ouch._

*

I was almost glad I was riding back alone, because even in the mirrors I could see him fuming to himself, imagine how white his knuckles were, how angry he was. At the injustice and the inability to answer back. He’d whirled around the second after he’d seen it, eyes meeting mine, and I could see the battle between _FUCK THIS I’M GOING IN THERE AND YELLING THE TRUTH TO EVERYONE_ and _people, eh? What can you do but breathe and move on?_. But neither of those options had won, instead accepting a hug and a few minutes quiet, calm conversation about it before he watched me get on my bike, but me not going first, forcing him to pull out the car park in front so I was sure he’d actually left, him irritated by that but understanding, 46 visible from inside the car if the gesticulation was anything to go by, and I’d eventually passed him after 3 or 4 miles following, hoping the joke gesture was one that would crack him into laughter rather than tears, giving him a Valentino style wave behind my back as I wound off through the traffic.

I beat him home by a considerable margin and was waiting by the pool with wine and two glasses as the offending bonnet pulled into view and then out of view into the garage. _Please say you laughed._

“WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT!”

I cringed and just about dared to look up and check the expression, and then grinned. “Thank God.”

He grinned back and raised his eyebrows, still trying to play mad. “That was not funny for at least 10 minutes.”

“Ha. Did you break anything?”

“Only my heart.”

“Awwwww.” I smiled and passed him a glass, pouring wine in and feeling his eyes on me. “What?”

“Just…” He shrugged and took a sip, and a breath. “YOU!”

“Well, maybe I’m special..?” _Or stupid._

“That’s one word.”

“But it did make you crack?”

“Maybe…” He glared and then smiled. “After A LOT of swearing and being angry.”

“Eek. Was it like 2007 all over again?”

“Fuck you.”

I grinned at that and relaxed into a hug, him poking me in the ribs and making me giggle, and resolved to have the Tavullia talk later. _But I will. But later._

“Swim?”

_Later._

*

_Ok, come on. You already gave him one whole speech about personal freedom, and surely he still feels the guilt over the reaction to Scott that actually made him cry._ “Ok we need to talk about something.”

“Hmm?” He looked down at my face and raised his eyebrows, hand still in my hair, both on the sofa watching TV. “Ok.”

I sat up and propped myself on my arm, him moving further up the sofa, me taking that as a sign that he’d heard the seriousness in my voice and sitting back further, facing him. “So today wasn’t the best day. Last night and today…” _Oh don’t look so guilty, baby, please._ “And…well…I hope this doesn’t make it worse.”

I could see his face darkening like clouds were coming in, me making it worse by cringing at that, definitely not succeeding in my plan to ‘play it down’. “What?”

“Ok…so last night…” His face positively blackened. “No, don’t do that face...” It lightened ever so slightly. “Better. So…last night…After I talked to you…” Darkening again. “I talked to someone else.” Pausing on puzzled. “And we need to talk about what was said.”

Still puzzled. “What?” 

“Because it was about us. And I think it was positive.”

Lighter. “Right…?”

“Ok…” Deep breath. “Promise me. _Promise_ me…that you’re not going to do what you did last night. Promise.”

Definite dark clouds of worry, threat of rain. “I promise.”

_Not sure if I believe you._ “Ok...Valentino. I spoke to Valentino.”

Thunder. “Right…” Teeth clenched. “And..?”

“And…” Deep breath. “I’m going to Tavullia to see him. Tomorrow afternoon.”


	19. Volte-Face

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I spell Catalunya this way and always have, disclaimer: non-political. ♥
> 
> I'm doing better at updating, right? :D Thanks so much for the responses etc, just ♥ please keep 'em coming!

Tavullia

I felt it the second he opened the door, the difference. Because he was _smiling._ Hint of sadness behind it, yes, nerves, regret, maybe a flash of irritation that took him by surprise as we came face-to-face for the first time since…since. But he was smiling, and not a for-the-show smile, either, because I knew the difference.

“Hi.”

“Ciao.” He smiled a bit wider before stepping back to let me inside, me hoping I’d done the right thing in letting myself through the front gate with the code I knew, him seeming to think so. “Come in.”

*

Catalunya

“What.”

If he’d yelled and panicked out loud the night before about Scott, he wasn’t doing that now. The word was seethed through gritted teeth, low and very, very quiet. I took a deep breath and nodded, trying to stick to the ‘play it down’ tactic.

“I’m going to Tavullia, tomorrow afternoon, to try and talk about it and sort it out, at least a bit.”

“So you talked to him?”

“Last night.”

“And you didn’t tell me.”

“It was less than 24 hours ago, and I wanted to repair everything a bit before I did.”

The word _repair_ added an extra ounce of worry to the expression. “Right…” Still seething, but impressively calm on the surface. _Maybe that’s worse._

“I mean us. Repair us. Give us a few hours to get over last night.”

“Hmm.”

“Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“I don’t want to because you won’t like it.”

“That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t tell me.”

There was a pause of a couple of seconds before he looked back at me. “You see the irony there, right?”

 _Shit._ “Yes. But please tell me.”

“Well, ok.” He shrugged and sighed. “What I’m thinking is that I don’t like it. At all. I don’t trust him, at all. And I don’t like the way you’re behind the scenes, deciding what to tell me and when. It feels like you were manipulating me.”

 _Ouch._ I took another deep breath, through my nose because my teeth were gritted, and nodded. “Right.”

“I said you wouldn’t like it.”

“I didn’t think it would be about _me_.”

“It’s not about you, it’s about how you made me feel. I’m being honest.”

 _Ok, yes. You are._ I nodded, slowly, and then felt my heart sink as he got up off the sofa. “Just give me a while, ok?”

He was out the room before I could answer, which hurt, and then I realised the truth of what he’d said, which hurt more, and then I replayed the first part of that little speech. _I don’t trust him._ And that made me very, very angry.

_It doesn’t matter if you don’t trust him. It only matters if you trust me._

*

Tavullia

“Coffee, red wine, something stronger?”

_I really am in Italy._

Walking back in was so strange. I’d been there thousands of times before, because although we hadn’t been what we’d said we were, we’d been friends. Proper friends. The kind of friends that could get up earlier than the host and take whatever food they wanted, break things and only an apology was necessary, treat it like it was their house. _Even though you’re a 9-time World Champion and I’m really not, you really let me in._

“Red wine.”

“Good choice.” He grinned back at me, now sat at the kitchen table, and put a glass in front of me, uncorking the already-open bottle and watching it pour in. “As you see, I already start the wine.”

I smiled at that, properly, feeling nerves start to defrost and some semblance of what had become normal start to return. “I see that. Hopefully for good reasons?”

“If you ask if I’m sat in my ‘ouse drinking and crying, no. Is ok.” He squeezed my shoulder slightly before sitting down opposite and taking a sip of his. “Not anymore, eh?”

 _Oh please don’t._ I felt a lump form in my throat at that but it was quickly disarmed by the smile, still there, a tinge more sadness, still real. “S-sorry.”

“Is not ok. Maybe we talk and make it ok, I don’t know. I’m not a, er…fortune teller.”

“Sete-“

“I think that with Gibernau was just lucky.”

 _You still knew exactly what I was going to say._ I laughed and nodded at that, mischievous sparkle hitting me across the table. “Ha. Ok…”

“See? Is not ok. But has… _potential._ ”

I looked up again and took a deep breath, this expression in his eyes much, much harder to read, Jorge’s warning ringing in my ears. _I don’t trust him._ “Maybe. Where do we start?”

“Anywhere.” He spread his hands and smiled. “But maybe we start with Uccio.”

*

Catalunya

I looked at the clock and then got to my feet. _46 minutes. Irony._ And anger. “Jorge?”

No reply, although I reasoned the house was big enough to host a plethora of Chilean trapped miners without us ever hearing them yell for yelp. I sighed and picked up the remnants of the cups and nibbles we’d eaten a couple of hours before, kind of used to that by now, although Cardús did the same with the same _goddamn it why doesn’t he realise that we do this and these things don’t tidy themselves_ kind of friendly frustrated expression, and then walked through to the kitchen to deal with them. Which is where he was. _You must have heard me, then. You must have._ I listened to the darkness and silence for a few seconds, stopped in the doorway with my eyes on him, and then went in.

“Didn’t you hear me?”

Nothing.

“Hello? Don’t fucking blank-“

“Huh?!” His head snapped up from whatever he was staring at and I felt myself relax slightly at how he really had been zoned out. “Sorry. I wasn’t…here.”

 _I wasn’t here._ I felt some irritation fade and nodded, putting the pots down and walking over. “Should I have been _here_ …?” I pointed at the stool next to him and raised my eyebrows. “Because this is silly.”

“Maybe. You should be here. You should be here all the time…”

 _Ok. Here we go._ “Yeah, I should. When I want to be. Which is _ninety-nine_ percent of the time, because I love you. But sometimes I’m not going to be here. Sometimes you’re not. And-“

“I know that. I know. This isn’t about you going somewhere without me or…living your life. I understand everything you said yesterday, and I said…I’m sorry. And I agree.”

_I sense a ‘but’._

“But this is different.”

*

Tavullia

“Is very ‘ard, convince Yamaha that it won’t ‘appen again.”

“Uccio’s attempted murder?” I hoped I’d read the mood he wanted for the conversation right, and had that confirmed as he smiled.

“’ey! Was more like a bad cowboy film.”

“Maybe. Just duelling between the wrong two people.” 

“Ah, so you admit I ‘ave reason to _duel_?”

“No. Stop smirking.” I tried to follow my own advice and failed.

He didn’t either and he smirked even harder, taking a sip of wine, eyes still on mine. “No.”

“Ok. Fine. But yeah…I can imagine. I imagine you want to sort it out before the next race?”

“Yeah. Exactly. Because Valentino without Uccio in the box is not going to work.”

“But sometimes he wasn’t-“

“He wasn’t. But you were there, when he wasn’t. Now maybe you are there but over the wall, eh?”

I felt my heart sink and sighed. “Please don’t tell me you’re going to-“

“I don’t want to see ‘im, and he won’t want to see me.”

“But the wall-“

“The wall is important between me and Jorge. But the wall between me and you need to come down. And Uccio.”

 _No, yes, if it helps._ “You want me to talk to Uccio?”

“No.” He took a breath and chose the perfect words for the _I still think he was wrong_ tone of voice. “I want you to let Uccio talk to you.”

*

Catalunya

“Why is it different?”

“That should be obvious.”

“A lot of things should be obvious but they’re still being ignored.”

“Don’t make this about me. This isn’t about me. This is about _you_ and _him_.”

“No, it’s about you. Us. And trust.”

“NO. IT is NOT.”

“Jorge, please, please calm down.” I was back on my feet, across the kitchen island, unconscious of why then realising it was a barrier. _Great._ “It’s not that bad. I could walk through a nudist colony of 2000 George Clooneys and not take a detour on the way home. I _love_ you.”

“But it-“

“There’s no _but._ There is no but in the world you can reply when I say that, because it’s _unconditional_. Do you UNDERSTAND?”

“Yes, but-“

“NO! No but!”

We stared at each other for a few seconds, him quite shocked at how angry I was getting, me quite shocked how controlled I still was, before he did it _again._

“But-“

“No.” Voice softer, words meant even more. “There is no but unless you create it. You knew this was going to be hard. You knew everything was going to push us to the limit. You signed up for this. You-“

“No I fucking didn’t. I signed up for _you._ Not Italian _snakes._ Me and you. Against everything. But me and you and him? No.”

“Why don’t you understand that your opinion of him doesn’t matter?!”

“What?!” Complete outrage.

“No, not like that! I mean, if you trust _me_ , it doesn’t matter whether he’s a snake or a fucking saint. Because _I am the same._ ”

“Yes, and I love you. I can’t believe how it feels waking up next to you. _I love you_. But you have to understand-“

“No, I don’t. Because I’m not wrong. I know, I _know_ how it must feel. But there’s no risk. There’s no risk unless you make one and you’re making one. Seriously, please, _please_ just listen to what I’m saying.”

“I’m listening and I understand, I just don’t agree.”

“If you really understood then you would agree.”

We stared each other down for a few seconds, tears brimming, breath shaky, before he took some of my words the wrong, wrong way.

“ _There’s no risk unless you make one._ What the FUCK does THAT mean?!”

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, knowing at the time that had come out wrong and hoping he’d missed it. _Of course not. Never._ “It means you’re doing more damage right now than spending years with him could ever do. Because it’s not about _him_ , it’s about _us._ ”

“Well, you know what it sounded like to me?”

 _Yes._ “Hm.”

“I don’t like being threatened.”

“It wasn’t a threat, it was a bad choice of words.”

“ _I think people often say what they mean by accident, then try and-_ ”

“Stop it. That doesn’t apply to now.”

“Oh but you remember saying it?”

“Yes I fucking remember saying it. I remember _everything._ ”

“Yeah, _me too_.”

*

Tavullia

I did talk to Uccio. And he did apologise. And it was awkward, and horrible, because I wasn’t really sure whether he meant it or not. But he seemed to, at least. And he treated me like a human being, said he would apologise to Jorge in person, in public if needed, if I, or me and Jorge, could convince Yamaha to let that happen. I said I’d try, not really going into detail about how hard it was to convince Jorge of anything once his mind had set off in the opposite direction.

“Is progress.”

“I hope so.”

“Good.” Smile, sparkle, eyebrows raised. “Cigar?”

*

Catalunya

“Are you coming to bed?”

“Not at the moment, no.”

“Are you going to sleep?”

“Don’t know.”

“In our room?”

“Don’t know.”

“Right. Fine.” I walked back to the door and left him with a shrug in lieu of bursting into tears. “Goodnight.” 

*

_Gone training._

The most cursory note I’d ever seen. I flipped it over and wrote on the reverse.

_Gone to Tavullia. I LOVE YOU._


	20. Someone Else's Fairytale

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much so far! :) ♥ so so appreciated :) hope you like it... ;)

Tavullia

“There is something wrong.”

“Hmm?” I looked up and felt my breath catch as I saw the expression. _Genuine concern. For me, not himself._

“So we talk, then we stop and we smoke, and I 'ope we make progress. But you’re upset.”

*

Catalunya

“No.”

“Well why don’t you-“

“No.”

Ricky sighed and rubbed his hands over his face, used to stubbornness, not used to how bad this was. _And you won’t even tell me what happened._ “Tell me what happened, at least. Please.”

“No. I didn’t ask you to-“

“No, you didn’t ask me to come over. But you sounded like someone should come over. And there are two obvious candidates for that. And one of them doesn’t seem to be here. So what happened?”

“Nothing.”

“Stop lying to me, or I’m just going to call her.”

“Don’t.” He finally looked up at him and locked their eyes together. “ _Don’t._ ”

_Right. Fuck._ “Ok, fine. Fine. I’m going to make a drink, ok? Want one?”

He didn’t really have to wait around to hear the ‘no’, knowing it was coming anyway.

_FUCK._

*

Tavullia

“Jorge didn’t want me to come here.”

I thought back to that first conversation with Casey and how the one person there listening was the one I felt most guilty about talking to, and realised that guilt that been miniscule compared to this. But after wine, and cigars, and stars, and the fact that he really seemed to want to talk, made it one of those things you’re heading towards screaming ‘no’ but still not putting on your own brakes.

“Well I think I would not be ‘appy either, eh? Is a difficult situation.”

_You wouldn’t be happy, no. But you’re not him. And I thought-_ “But if he trusts me, it shouldn’t be a big problem.”

“I’m sure he trust you. He doesn’t trust _me_ , eh?” He grinned at me and winked, taking a sip of wine and sitting further back in his chair, both of us reclined quite a long way back, staring up at the sky, sharing a cigar. 

I looked sideways at him and raised my eyebrows, the face I got in return one of completely guilt-less cheek, and then felt myself start to crack slightly, the pressure of the incredibly long fight, now into its second day and second country with no word from him at all, really starting to be ridiculous. And I had tried. I’d called from the airport on both ends of the journey, and earlier in the night after I’d arrived. But it had ticked on towards 1am, he hadn’t answered, and now I felt like I wanted to run off to the room where I’d used to sleep, and go to sleep, curled around a Spartan-smelling cushion.

“He doesn’t trust you. But like I told him, it shouldn’t matter. Because he should trust me. And unless he thinks you’re going to force me to do anything, that’s it.”

“But is not so simple. It make all the sense in the world when you say it, but when you live it, is different.”

“I’m not saying it has to be normal and he has to wave me off with a smile, but he didn’t have to be like this. It didn’t have to be like this, because there’s a difference between worrying and paranoia and all that stuff and genuinely seeming to think I came here to _cheat_. He’s made it worse.” My voice had got higher and higher, composure starting to drop, and I leant my head back; sighing, shrugging, pathetic. “He doesn’t seem to remember that we were never together.”

“Ah. Well…that I remember.” He mirrored my pose and sighed the same before his head turned back towards me. “And that is what I think we should talk about.”

“Hmm?”

“Is not easy, for me. Sit here and listen to you not be ‘appy. Even for a few days, eh? Because I think you should know that I do love you, and maybe for 2 or 3 months, before, I think I feel this. But I never do anything, I never tell you. But, anyway…now you know. But it doesn’t mean anything change. Because it changed for you, because now you know, doesn’t mean that I’m different, no? Because has been this way for me for a long time. So I feel the same. But now, of course, it hurts more. Because you’re gone.”

_This would be someone else’s fairytale._ “I’m not gone, Vale. I-” _…never will be._

“No, but you know what I mean. And I believe you now, when you say you love him. I think the way you look at him, I see on the TV, you never look at me like this. And it hurts me, and I worry very much whether it is a good idea, because you know – I don’t think he is right. Maybe we fight too much on track for me to ‘ave a good opinion, I don’t know. But maybe I am not right for you, either. You know, you share so much of my life for so long and now ‘ere we are and still, you don’t feel it. So obviously, I am not right.” He’d sat up during that little speech and switched the cigar for a cigarette, offering me the pack and giving me a knowing little smirk as I took one. “So I’m not mad with you. I’m mad about what ‘appen with the weekend when everything come out, I don’t know _why_ it ‘ave to ‘appen like this – maybe is something to talk about tomorrow, no? When is not so late and there’s not so much wine. But this is what I want, now. Sometimes maybe we share a bad cigarette under the stars and talk a while and make each other feel better, maybe we go and get some food or something – I don’t know. But I want my friend back, because she is important to me. And I miss her. I miss you. So…maybe…” He trailed off and blew a cloud of smoke straight at my face, one eyebrow raised. “Maybe I’m not very trustworthy after all, eh?”

_Typical. Emotional speech and then a joke._ I sucked the little cloud of smoke out the air in front of me, making him smile, and then narrowed my eyes at him, pantomime suspicion. “I’m not sure I want to know what you mean.” I found myself smiling as his grin got wider, then found a slight laugh turning into a full giggle once he’d explained.

“Well I think maybe all this is easy to speak about on the phone but if I say no, not by phone, you come here and I get some time with you, eh?”

“Snake.”

“Maybe.” Another delicious grin. “Nobody’s perfect.”

*

Catalunya

“Ok. I figured it out.” Ricky held up the note and then threw it down on the coffee table in front of his friend. “That’s what’s happened, right?”

“Hmm.”

“Right. Well. I don’t know what to say to you.”

“How about _see you tomorrow sorry I came over today_.”

“You know, you don’t have to be so rude.”

“Not rude. Honest. I want to be on my own.”

“To drive yourself crazier? No.”

“What do you mean, no?! It’s my fucking house!”

“No, it’s not. It’s yours and hers. Remember that? Remember when you trusted her with everything you’ve earnt for years and can’t even do that for 2 days away from you now?”

“It’s not the same. If she called now and said _sorry I made a mistake, I’m staying in Italy_ , she still wouldn’t take anything from me. That’s not a risk.”

“So what you’re saying is, you’ll invest your money, but not yourself.” He shook his head and hoped the expression in his eyes said everything he wanted it to. “I never thought I’d say this, but maybe you haven’t changed at all.”

“I didn’t ask for this conversation, Cardús, just fuck off.”

“Precisely. You didn’t ask for it. Because you’re not really that interested in _improving_ and being a better human being right now are you? You’re interested in the basic, fucked up reaction that is coming from ONE source-”

“Valentino.”

“No, not Valentino. I mean everyone who’s fucked you over.”

“Lot of sources, then.”

“Spare me the self-pity.”

“Spare me the lecture then.”

“It’s meant to be an interactive learning experience.” He raised his eyebrows, hoping the tone would help, and got a scowl in return.

“Oh, it has been.” Jorge looked back at him and then pointed at the door. “Just leave me alone.”

*

Tavullia

“You know when you have a sneaky plan, you’re not meant to tell the victim.”

He laughed at that and then sat up again, shrugging. “But there’s no victim, really? You don’t hate me.”

“No, I don’t hate you. Of course I don’t hate you. And I’m sorry.” I took a deep breath and bit my lip to not cry at him, the look on his face – as if he could actually imagine me saying _yes, I hate you_ , too much. “I’m so, so sorry. Like you said…the weekend…the mess…it didn’t have to hap-“

“Ok, move over.”

I stopped and looked up at him, wondering if he was really going to do that.

“Ana, do not look at me like that.” He raised his eyebrows and smiled. “Like I say, nothing change. I feel the same, we hug before. We do this before.” _The first time I felt it._

“But…”

“But what? You’re not going to change your mind and move in here, are you?”

“No.”

“So move over.”

I sighed and took another drag on the cigarette before doing so, feeling a familiar flash of macabre amusement at how slim and lithe he was compared to my either impressive-on-a-good-day or depressing-on-a-bad-day curves, and a familiar flash of gut-wrenching guilt. And although we’d only been friends, we did already know how comfy that was, and how my head fit under his chin perfectly, cheek to his chest, leg just slightly wrapped around his. And I must have been upset, because I got the fabric of his t shirt wet within 5 minutes and listened to little whispers in Italian I didn’t know enough of to understand, hand playing with my hair, just letting me calm down. And I must have calmed down, because I woke up at 5.34am with the sun playing over the horizon at the end of the garden, him still there, asleep, I imagined, only within the last hour or so, calm steady breath gently moving me up and down. I felt guilty as hell. And I didn’t move.


	21. Left to Lose

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it was a while ♥
> 
> Please let me know what you think?! ♥ and I'm sure there's someone with this twitter name but it's accidental and not meant to represent them in any way ;) ♥

_It’s been hours._ I’d been dosing, listening to him breathe, lulled into a sense of peace by the gentle movement of his chest, watching the sun rise higher and higher until finally my British skin was actually starting to burn. And I was still comfy, and I still felt incredibly guilty, although I still knew completely that the person I loved, really, really _loved_ , was hundreds of miles away, probably locked in his house, brooding, with or without Ricky either helping him, or annoying the fuck out of him, stubbornly still not contacting me. _And that hurts me more than you would be hurt by seeing this._ I sighed again, checking my phone to find nothing and wiggling it back into my pocket, before the Italian next to me started to stir, breath changing, little groan and then one eye cracking open and eyeballing me, eyebrow raised, cheeky sparkle already lit for the day.

“Oh. ‘ello.”

“Morning.” I grinned at him and poked him slightly, that making a little whoosh of breath splutter out as his arms stretched above his head. 

“’ey. What time is it?”

“About 9.45.”

“Fuuuuuuck, sorry.”

“It’s ok. I’ve been awake for a while.”

He looked at me, reading the _if I’d wanted to move…_ perfectly, and then poked me back and we sat up. “Then ok. Food.”

_Some people never change._ “Yeah. Food.” _And ignoring everything. I’m very impressed._

*

Catalunya

“Hello.”

“You again.”

“Me again. Not bothered shaving and showering today, then?”

“No.” Jorge stalked off back into the kitchen to stare into his coffee. 

“Ok, it’s getting to the point where I have to say things you’re going to throw me out for, you know that, right?”

*

@VR46fan4eva On holiday today from Marconi! And who is this…? ;) pic.twitter.com/sbdubw

351 retweets // 124 favourites

*

Tavullia

“Fuck.” I looked up from my phone, heart dropping through the floor. “Somebody saw me. Well..somebody recognised me. In the airport yesterday…and tweeted it.” We were now eating breakfast on opposite sides of the big table in his kitchen, I’d made coffee, he seemed to love the fact that I still did that without asking, and then I’d checked my phone, again, and dared to check Twitter. And found an already raging wasps nest of horror.

“Ok.”

_Well yeah, of course you don’t care._ “But if you don’t want us to tell the truth, then what is that going to look like? And don’t tell me you don’t care. Because I do. And Jorge does.” _Jorge. Fuck._

“Well maybe is obvious we need to talk, eh?”

“And would you invite a girlfriend over to visit you after she apparently left you for your teammate?”

“Ma-“

“No maybe. Come on, you’d never do that.”

“Maybe not.”

“Definitely not. So what are we going to do?”

*

Catalunya

“Did you speak to her?”

“No.”

“Did she call you?”

“Yes.”

“And what is this gaining?”

“I don’t think there’s anything to gain. I already lost.” He pushed his phone over the countertop, Ricky first looking at the number of missed calls – 14 – and then realising what else he was seeing.

“Oh dear…”

*

Tavullia

“Still not answering me.” I put the phone down on the table and followed it with my forehead. “Why did this have to happen?”

“You want the real answer?”

“Yeah.”

“Because you made everything ‘appen in a weekend. You force it. And now, we ‘ave to deal with it.”

_Stay calm. Stay calm._ “Ok, yeah. It didn’t _have_ to happen that way. But I was really upset, and confused…do you _know_ how much you hurt me with some of the things you said?”

“You know how much it hurt to watch you walk away?”

“I know. I _know._ But I can’t be sorry for that, can I? Not walking away. Everything after, yeah. And I’m sorry it is the way it is, for your sake. But I’m not sorry for walking away and I’d do it again.” I watched his eyes flicker between hurt, acceptance and anger, staring back at me. “I’m sorry. But I did it for a reason. Because I don’t love you. I’m sorry for that, too. I was thinking last night…this is someone else’s dream. You. Look at you. You’re one of the most incredible people I’ve ever met and your name will always send a little shiver through me. But I love Jorge. And nothing can change that.”

“And you ‘ave to tell the world that straightaway?”

I sighed and hung my head slightly. “No. That’s why I’m apologising. But we were so happy.” I bit my lip slightly as the extremity of how quickly everything had fucked up started to hit me. “And I’m sorry. But I thought…I mean, the way you were, with him? With me…even over breakfast. It didn’t feel like there was anything left to lose.”

*

Catalunya

“Right, go and sit down over there.”

“Just leave me alone, I’ll lock myself in for a few days and then we’ll be back on track and everything will be forgotten.”

“Everything?”

“The wall will be back, she’ll be back on the other side of it, and everyone else will eventually forget about it.”

_Jesus fucking Christ._ The Moto2 rider could feel himself actually shaking with the frustration, taking a second to make sure he had some air before carrying on. “I swear, in a minute, I’m going to hit you.”

“Oh just fucking try!” He looked back up at him, face suddenly unguarded and eyes welling up. “That’s just typical, isn’t it? Go on. Try. Try and smack some sense into me. Then close the door on the way out and leave me in peace. You know, you really find out who your friends are in moments like this.”

_Yeah, exactly._ “Yep.”

*

Tavullia

“Well maybe I didn’t realise how ‘ard it would be. Without you. So maybe not all of you, but without any of you. And maybe I calm down…and think, and then Uccio…and now ‘ere we are. But that is us, ok? That’s not the world outside. You should have waited.”

A distant part of my brain was impressed with the right use of _should have_ before I felt myself starting to nod. “Ok. I understand that. And we should have waited. But we didn’t. So there’s no point dwelling on it, now.”

“Is not ‘dwelling’, is talking. We need to talk, we need to, er….repair? Things a bit. So this is what I think.”

“And I’m sorry.”

“That doesn’t change the fact it ‘appened, but ok. I’m not so mad.” Deep breath, and the unthinkable, helmet-off, truly meant apology from _Valentino Rossi_. “I’m sorry if I hurt you, too.”

*

Catalunya

“What do you think is happening right now?”

“Simple. Girlfriend I love…she loves me…then she can’t understand why I feel like I do, then she leaves.”

“For a few days.”

“At first. Then she’ll realise she made a mistake and go forever.”

“No she won’t.”

“She already stayed longer than she said. She stayed the _night._ ”

“Maybe. And I bet you 9 World Championships nothing happened.”

“Don’t fucking joke.”

“I’m not joking. Ana’s so right for you, I don’t understand how this is happening.”

“Well it’s-“

“Ok, no. I understand perfectly why it’s happening, I just can’t believe it’s happening with her.”

“You understand?”

“Yes. You don’t trust anyone. Maybe me, and your mother. And your sister. Maybe Juanito. Everyone else is locked out. Even her. You love her, I know you do because even before she left him you wouldn’t stop talking about her. So maybe it was more complicated than it seemed, but actually it’s simpler. She doesn’t love him, she wasn’t his girlfriend, she fell in love with you and you fell in love with her. That causes problems because Vale’s decided he wants her too. But she doesn’t want him. But then, the public fallout is big, and someone has to deal with that. And that’s what she’s trying to do. And you’re sat here deciding she’s ‘gone back’ to something she never even had in the first place. So I understand…you’re letting everything else that’s happened to you make you believe that you can’t let her in-“

“I did let her in and look what happened!”

“You let her in far enough for this to be upsetting both of you, but not properly. Not enough for you to actually get the fact that you’re not under threat.”

“You think she’s right.” 

“Yeah.”

Jorge slammed his cup back down and shrugged. “Well that’s great.”

“Yeah. It is. Because you do trust me. And I’m going to fucking beat it into you until you’re getting on a plane to Bologna if that’s what you have to do. Because Jorge Lorenzo doesn’t sit in a house crying over something because it hurts. You don’t give up. That’s just not what you do.”

There was a spark of something, very briefly, before it was again replaced by the same upset scowl. “Maybe it is now.”

“I’m not leaving until you’re in the car with me, or sat here smiling.”

“You’re in for a long wait, then.”

*

Tavullia

“So…what do we actually do?”

“You mean…what am I willing to do to ‘elp?”

_Yeah, pretty much._ I nodded and shrugged, completely at his mercy, not able to read what he was going to say. _Difference number 46._ “Yeah.”

“Ok, well…maybe we start by making a deal, eh?”

“Ok…”

“So, the deal is…I ‘elp you, I say is better, or not better, but…I say is ok. Starting today, over the next few weeks, and we, er…defuse? everything. Uccio apologise to Jorge. Me and Jorge smile in public. And make’s it a lot better.”

_I thought you said deal. That sounds more like a dream._ “Right…?”

“Right. And in return…you’re still my friend. I know you are…or I know between us is not big a problem. But Jorge has to live with that, because I’m not doing it in secret. And me and Jorge? We smile _in public_. Not after.”

_And there you go._


	22. De Vuelta

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been a while.
> 
> I hope you like it? Please let me know ♥ I know not much more happening yet... :/
> 
> I'll try and be better (again ;))

“Hello?!”

_“Oh God. Sorry. Sorry, Ana. It’s me.”_

I felt my heart sink and bit my lip. _Oh, hello, you._ “Hi Ricky. I-“

_“I know. The number. Sorry, I should have used my phone.”_

“It’s ok. It’s ok, I’m glad to hear from someone. How are you?”

_“I’m ok. I’m more ringing to ask you that, though.”_

“I’m, er…I’m on my way back. People taking pictures now they know. Good conversations and stuff though with Vale, if Jorge would bother-“

_“I know. I’m trying, I’m really trying. I just…I don’t…I don’t know how to say this, but you understand why he’s-“_

“I understand perfectly. I understand perfectly…” I trailed off and felt tears hit my eyes, looking up to lock eyes with myself in the airport bathroom mirror, cursing the idea of putting this much effort into my appearance for the sake of appearance and then seeing it start to melt down my face an hour after. “I understand why he’s like that, and I want to help. You know? I want to _help_. But if I give in…” Another look at myself. “If I give in, that’s a precedent for my life. You understand?”

_“Kind of…”_

“I mean, so this time, because it hurts him and I really, really understand the paranoia, this time I give in. And I say ‘ok, yeah. We’ll do it your way.’ Then what does he think? He thinks ‘oh well I was right. I don’t have to change that, because I was right.’ And it will keep happening. You know? It will keep happening. He’s incredible. You know…I mean…sorry I’m rambling I’ve had some wine to get on this fucking plane which I really shouldn’t have to anyway but still…I love him. I love him how he is. But…I can’t let this go. Not for me, or for Vale, for him. Because he…he needs it. He needs to trust somebody and be proved right. Not make it happen because he forces it to, he has to just trust someone. Me. He has to trust me. He has-“

_“I’m sorry. I know, don’t cry.”_

“I’m not.” Sniff. “Much.” I smiled at that and took a deep breath. “He’s not…done anything stupid, has he?”

_“Stupid?”_

“Like invited a fucking catalogue of models over…”

_“God, no. He’s been sat here just…kind of…broken? He seems to think you’ve literally just…gone.”_

“Gone?”

_“I told him you’re coming back today and it’s like he doesn’t believe it at all. He thinks you’re probably going to come back to fetch your stuff and leave.”_

I felt my heart sink even further and gritted my teeth, staring at the ceiling. “Fucking hell.”

_“I was calling to warn you. I’m going now, I’m training this afternoon. He’ll be alone. I won’t come back today unless one of you calls me, ok? But he thinks I will. Ok?”_

“You’re a saint.”

_“I’m a friend. And I trust you. I…I can’t even explain. As a friend, the relief. The relief when I saw him talk about you and the relief when you walked in together and you just…he needs you. You know?”_

_This is way too deep for fucking Marconi at 2pm._ “I hope I know. But…I need him. I…when we were just talking…before this whole thing became real…that’s the irony. I’m here, on my own, in Italy, sitting across from a broken hearted legend, and I’m trying to sort it. I’m a bit wobbly, but…I can do this. I can do most things. I…I don’t know how to explain it but I’ve spent too long on the phone to him being fixed and helped and counselled and _loved_ and…I just…I don’t know how this happened. How is it so FUCKED, Ricky. How is it so FUCKED.” I grimaced as a very well-to-do stewardess walked in and widened her eyes at that before shutting herself in a cubicle and proving my cue to leave. I walked back out and listened to the reply. 

_“Because he’s really good at ideas and thinking and challenges that test him, when they’re about trying to prove himself right. But this is about you trying to prove him wrong.”_

*

“Hello…?”

Nothing. I walked in and dumped my bag by the door, finding some light, scary wave of goosebumps going through me at the contrast between this – the house owned by me and the man I loved – and Tavullia – a house owned by a ‘friend’ – and how the other one felt more like home in that moment. _But it didn’t._

“Jorge?”

Nothing, still. I wandered through each part of the house, no lights, no sign, no anyone, before eventually pausing at the bedroom door and taking a deep breath. _Please, baby. Please be alone._ The thought itself made me feel slightly sick. _Please be alone._ I opened the door, slowly, not knocking as I’d almost been tempted to, and took a deep breath. Alone, asleep, naked. Raveled in the sheets. Peaceful. Perfect.

I contemplated just getting into bed next to him and curling up, but too many signals came from that, so I walked quietly over to the en suite, took off my make-up, deathly silence so strange, and took off my clothes, replacing them with a massive men’s XXL Alpine Stars t shirt, and then went and sat on the edge of the bed, turning on the lamp on ‘my’ side, light making his face flicker slightly, taking a deep breath.

“Jorge.”

Nope.

“Jorge. Jorge…I’m home. Wake up.”

Murmur.

I leant down closer and ran my hand through his hair. “Baby. Wake up. I’m home…”

“Hmm?”

“Wake up. I’m home.”

His eyes fluttered open, complete confusion, fixing on me, widening, staring at me.

“Hey. I’m home.” _Why are you asleep so early, alone without me. Why are there so many empty wine bottles in the kitchen. Why didn’t you answer your phone. Why don’t you trust me._

“H-hi.” He smiled at me, weakly, and then struggled upright slightly, sat against the headboard, stretching and looking at the ceiling. “You’re back.”

_Yup._ “Said I would be.”

“You said you’d be back b-“

“And then I tried to call you tens of hundreds of times and you didn’t pick up the phone.”

He shut his eyes again and let his head loll forwards, nodding, running his hands over his face. “I didn’t want to hear you say it. I don’t want to h…I…please don’t. If that’s why you’re here, please don’t. Please just tell-“

“Stop it.”

“Just tell m-“

“STOP IT. Now. I fucking mean it.” He looked at me like I’d set off a bomb and his lip wobbled slightly.

“Don’t.”

“I’m not doing anything. _I’m not doing anything._ I’m home. _Here._ I’m _home_.”

He looked at me like that couldn’t be possible and then shook his head, tears on cheeks now, gaze fixed down and away from me again. “Hm.”

“Ok, I can’t stand this. I can’t stand it. At all. Tomorrow, we’re going to talk, properly. Ok?”

“Talk.”

“About how we fix it.”

“Valentino.”

“No, although we need to talk about that too. How we fix us. We’re going to talk about that, and we’re going to do it. Ok? Because we don’t give up on stuff like this. Not like this.”

“But y-“

“There’s no but. Tomorrow, we’re going to talk. Now…” I felt it all start to build up and bit my lip. “Now I really need you to stop and just…stop. I need you to just believe me, now, and please…” 

“But-“

“Jorge. I mean it.” I managed to maintain some eye contact and saw the flash of pain pass through him as I felt myself blink and let the tears go. “ _Please._ ”

He stared at me for a few seconds, breath moving his chest up and down the only movement in the room, and then seemed to make it across the space in negative time, scooping me up, hands around my waist under the fabric of the t shirt like they were made for me, my face buried in his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I j-”

I shook my head slightly and let him pull us under the sheet, pulling my t shirt off, lips kissing a line down my neck, both of us almost crying in such incredible relief, until I found myself actually start to relax, one hand in my hair and one around me, fingers moving ever so slightly as if they were reminding me they were real, tips of our noses just touching, breath in time.

“We’ll talk tomorrow.”

He nodded and pressed one more gentle kiss on my lips. “Ok.”

“I love you. I love you so much.”

He nodded again and gulped, hand around my waist pulling me closer, one more kiss. “I love you, too. I promise. I’m sorry, I promise. I-“

“Goodnight.”

He took a deep breath and moved his nose side to side gently against mine, message received. “Goodnight.”


	23. Fuoco di un incendio tutto tuo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so, so sorry. It's been a painful Lorenzo year ♥
> 
> Title from Le Cose Che Non Mi Aspetto by Laura Pausini (almost!)
> 
> I hope I haven't lost you in the wait! :/ ♥

“Morning…”

It took me a few seconds to remember where I was, with whom, why, after what; all of that. And then I turned over to a set of nervous eyes smiling at me across the pillow, finger tracing a line on my arm. _Ah, the love of my life who won’t believe me._ “Hey.”

“Hey.” He leaned in, still looking slightly like he expected me to bite him back instead of kiss him, and then hummed happily as I returned the favour and snuggled down. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

_Me too. But…_ “I know.” _But…_

“You are here, right?”

“Don’t do this now.” I squeezed him and nodded against his chest, feeling that same shiver of indescribably perfection at the way we fit together. “Stay here for a few minutes, then breakfast. I’m here, I love you, and that’s all for now.”

“O-ok.” The grip got a bit tighter and the word softer. “Ok.”

*

Everything seemed to be joined by a pang of regret. I hadn’t even realised how quickly we’d fallen into a happy routine, and everything from leaving him in bed as I went to the bathroom to shower and wake up and brush my teeth to the way he asked if I wanted a coffee instead of just putting it down next to me, fingers usually brushing my shoulder or some other little nothing gesture that wasn’t meaningless, became a signal of how quickly things had changed and everything that had happened – chief irony being, of course, that nothing had actually happened. Not really, not between us. For the world outside an incredible storm of insanity had brewed, but for us, we’d just sat down and said _hey, I think I love you. Let’s make it happen_ , and then it had. _Maybe that’s the problem. We were already out of the pleases and thank yous and questions and answers zone before we even had a ‘date’._ “Jorge.”

“Hmm?”

“I’m going for a swim. You want to join?”

He looked at me like I was crazy. “Now?”

“Yup. Now.”

“Ok.” Smile, getting wider, feeling like he was being offered a route back in probably, not realising that he’d never been pushed out. “Give me a minute.”

I nodded and watched him go, walking outside to the pool and sitting on the edge, watching my feet move the water around below me, then staring at the pool furniture and feeling guilt creep in as I remembered being curled up in Tavullia. And then he appeared, sat down next to me, and threaded our fingers together, head hitting my shoulder. “I’m a mess.”

“I know.” I turned my head to press a kiss in his hair and then slid into the water, him following quickly, both squinting slightly under the sun and then naturally ending up face to face, me backed up against the side of the pool. “Stop being so nervous.”

“I don’t want to fuck it up even more.”

“Then just be you because I love _you_.”

He nodded at that and bit his lip slightly, moving his arms round my waist and leaning his chin on the top of my head, both of us starting to relax. “Why?”

“Because you’re 99% perfect, and 100% perfect for me.”

He laughed slightly into my hair and pulled away enough to get eye contact. “Only 99?”

_See. Hello, you._ I grinned and nodded, ruffling his hair before he dared to lean down for a kiss and was obviously happily surprised by the response, wrapping my legs round his waist, arms round his neck and hanging on as though he was going to vanish into this air.

“Jorge.”

“Hmm?”

“We need to talk about this properly because we need to sort it out.”

“I know.”

“Shall we ignore it until 6pm?”

“Sounds perfect.”

“99%.”

*

@ValeYellow46: Grazie per la visita @AnaRoja...@lorenzo99...ranch? :) 

@AnaRoja: @ValeYellow46 grazie Vale! Non so! @lorenzo99?? :)

*

“What the fuck…?”

“Yeah we should probably talk. That’s what he said…basically, he’ll be nice, publicly, and let some of the heat off. And we do the same. And I’m still friends with him.” I watched him put down the glass of wine and stare at me across the table.

“No.”

“It wasn’t a question. That’s what I’m doing. It doesn’t affect us, almost at all.”

“What the fuck-“

“Jorge. Stop it.”

“Don’t tell me-“

“I’m not. You want me? You love me?”

“Yes.”

“Then that’s how it is. I love you, I’ll not leave you for anyone, but this is how it is.”

“Do I not get a choice? This is our-“

“No, this is me. This is my life. If you want to share-“

“I do.”

“Well then it’s simple.”

*

“Come inside.”

“Just leave me alone for a while.”

“Ana, pl-“

“No. I mean it.”

“Just let me-“

“No, I meant what I said. Either accept it, or don’t.”

“But-“

“Jorge? LEAVE me alone.”

*

Jorge: _I don’t know what to do._

Ricky: _Well what’s the problem?_

Jorge: _Ana came home from Italy. Says she’s friends with him and that won’t change. Says if we play nice in public he will too and everything should die down._

Ricky: _And the problem is…?_

Jorge: _Friends with him? Just jetting off to Italy with him, basically how they were before when everyone thought they were a couple?_

Ricky: _And they weren’t, and now you are, and you have a lot more between you than they ever did._

Jorge: _Really? Because it feels like I won the lottery and then they told me it was a mistake._

Ricky: _You’re making it a mistake. You should just trust her. Properly._

Jorge: _Easy to say._

Ricky: _Easy to do, as well, if you really want._

*

“I’m sorry.”

“Hmm.”

“Can I sit next to you?”

“If you’re going to talk sense you can do anything you want.”

“Right…” He took that not too unhappily and sat down, staring out across the pool and feet swirling next to mine. “I’m sorry..?”

“If you mean it then ok, if not then heard it before.”

“Please don’t-“

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t…talk to me like that. I’m trying.”

“Trying. Seriously? Because I was talking to Ricky, you know…when you weren’t answering your phone? You know what I asked him?”

_Oh, right. So everybody’s-_ “No?”

“I even asked him if you were alone. If you’d brought girls back here. Because you fucking cut me off like you didn’t care-“

“What?!”

“Yeah. And I could almost imagine it. Sat in your house, drinking, fucking whoever wanted to-“

“I would never, _ever_ do that.”

“Ridiculous, is it? Like me walking out on someone who was only ever a friend and going through all this because I wanted to be with you, and then you thinking I’d just run off? Hmm?”

“Yes.”

“So you admit it’s ridiculous.”

“Y-yes. But it doesn’t make me feel bet-“

“You know what?! This is what you don’t seem to understand. I can’t and I won’t just do whatever you think will make you feel better. We are or we should be completely solid, you know? Because it’s _right._ But you’re still acting like I’m some random girl you-“

“I’m not; the opposite. I can’t stand the thought of-“

“Neither can I. Neither can _I_. I love you. But this isn’t you. This is just stupid fucking paranoia from everyone who’s fucked you over, and yeah...I understand it. I can live with it. _We_ can. But it’s not controlling us. Or me. It’s a problem, so you fight it, you don’t just-“

“I know.”

“So-“

“Because it’s _you_.” He snaked his arm round my back and pulled me in slightly, relaxing as I did, knowing the emotion in my voice could be helped by that, and wasn’t caused by it. “It’s _you_ , and that means it’s important. I mean, more important than anything. Ok?”

“I feel the same.”

“But you won’t-“

“No. I won’t. If he was being a dick, fine. But he’s not. He’s actually being _nice_. And I miss him, my friend the crazy Italian guy. You don’t have to be friends with him. You don’t have to be involved in his life. But I am, now. And if I just cut him off because your paranoia asks me to, that’s wrong. It’s wrong because it hurts him and it’s wrong because it…” _Don’t be mad…_ “It sets a precedent.”

“What?”

“So this time, I say ‘ok, fine. I can understand what you’re saying.’ What about next time?”

“I don’t think there’s going to be a next time. Or I hope not.”

“No, but other stuff. I follow you, and your job, and I give up mine. Yes, I want to. I want to be there with you and share it. But what’s left for me, if I’m not _allowed_ to even be trusted around other people? And it’s not the first time. Already, even after this long, it’s not the first time. I mean, for fuck’s sake, do you really think I’m going to go and fuck Scott Redding? Seriously?”

“But…the way you speak to each other…”

“Yeah, we speak to each other like flirty British people. And he tries. He _tries_. But what difference does that make? Like I said before I went to Tavullia, it doesn’t matter if I’m trapped on a desert island with him and Vale and anyone else for months, because if you trust me it’s the same as being there with my grandma. I don’t want them. I want you.”

“I understand that.” He took a deep breath and pressed a kiss against my shoulder. “Do you understand me? I don’t mean agree, I mean-“

“Yes, I understand. I understand really well. And if you were someone else I might even let it go and we’d have this one thing we fight about forever. But it’s you, and you’re different, or you should be. That’s the thing…this could be perfect, or as close as anything can be. But you have to deal with this.”

“That sounds like an ultimatum.”

“It almost is. I don’t want a bit of you. I want all of you, and I want this to work like it should. So, like I said before…it’s up to you. You will break my heart, but I don’t want this half way.”

“So it’s you and Vale-“

“No. Nothing to do with him. It’s you and me, 100% trust, or nothing. If I’m trusted, I do what I want when I want.”

He went quiet for a few seconds before he took his hand back, that already making tears start to well up in my eyes thinking the worst, and then wove his fingers through mine. “Ok.”

_I hate that word._ “I mean it. I can understand, and we can work through this together, but there has to be a destination. You understand?”

“Yes.” He gave my hand a squeeze and then slipped into the pool, letting it go, fully clothed and starting to pull them off and throw them out, eventually standing there naked and holding his hand up to me. “I will do anything. I promise.”

“And then…” I took a deep breath and looked at him for a few seconds, tears back but for good reasons, smiling slightly and watching the relief hit his face, the Jorge Lorenzo in the pool the right one again, “…you go and get in the pool in the middle of the night with all your clothes on as a way of proving how much you love me?”

“Yes. You said ‘be me’.”

“Exactly.” I held my hand out and waited until he was stood in front of me to lower myself in, water colder than he’d made it look and making me gasp, cheeky smile and wiggling eyebrows in front of me more than aware of that, and then took a deep breath and closed my eyes as his hands went round my waist, like earlier but nothing waiting in the back of our minds, finally at least in the same book if still slightly different pages.

“Ana…”

I shivered at the whisper in my ear and nodded, opening my eyes to find his right in front of mine. “Yeah?”

“I can’t do it instantly.”

“Nothing worth doing is instant.”

“But you know-“

“Yeah, I know you mean it. And soon I’m going to find Scott again in Sant Celoni and see if I can keep up a bit better.”

“O-ok.” Not happy, but nothing like the flash of jealousy from before. “Tomorrow you’ll be here?”

“Yes.”

“Dinner?”

“Sounds good.”

“Ok.” He paused again, suddenly slightly guarded and nervous from the weirdly practical conversation, before I pulled off my t shirt and threw it out the pool onto the side, floating closer to him and wrapping my legs around his waist.

“It’s the same as before, for me. There’s nowhere better in the world than with you. Ok?”

“Ok. It just seems too good to be true.”

“I know what you mean.” I nodded and pressed my lips against his for a second, pulling his bottom lip away with my teeth and then locking our eyes together. “I really know what you mean, because I get the same thing. Every day. But-“

“Ok. I know.”

“Really-“

“I _know_.”


	24. Because-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do solemnly swear I will do better on updates ♥

“Funny story…”

_“What happened?”_

“You can already tell it’s one of those ‘I’m laughing because there is no other option’ things…”

_“Yeah, are you ok? What happened?”_

“Calm down. I’m ok, ish…as in, I will be 100% fine but it is probably going to scar.” I locked eyes with Scott and made an ‘eek’ face as the profanities started. “Shut up and I’ll tell you…”

_“Ok I’m already in the car and you’re on speaker so just tell me where-“_

“Jorge? Calm. Down.”

Deep breath. _“Sorry. Where are you, and what happened?”_

“Better. Ok, I’m in the Hospital in Granollers with Scott. Someone ran into me.”

_“They’d better not have been-“_

“Deep breath. Not Scott, not at the track. On the road. A car pulled out, so my bike is more injured than me. I’m ok, I’m just bruised. I have a very ugly forearm and 2 broken fingers, and my leg is never going to be as pretty as it was.”

_“Oh my God. Are you sure? How do you feel? Did you check-“_

“Please, please try and calm down, and drive here safely and within the speed limit. Ok? Because I really really want you here, but you will make me panic like you are doing now if you drive like an idiot.”

_“I’m sorry. I’m trying.”_

“I can hear you honking at people.”

_“I didn’t say I was succeeding…”_

“I will see you soon, and if you get here quicker than you should you’re waiting outside anyway. Ok?”

_“No Ana it’s fine I’ll just-“_

“Love you. Bye.” I put the phone down and looked over at the slightly amused, slightly concerned, slightly jealous face staring back at me. “Thanks for being here. You going to be my muscle?”

“Eh?”

“Keep him out if he breaks my rule…”

“Not sure how well that would go down.”

“Jeje. Me neither…”

“It’s not funny. If he smacks me, I’m-“

“He won’t, don’t be stupid. He might grit his teeth a lot, but you’ll be fine.”

“Oh, I know I would be fine. I just don’t want to have both the happy couple in hospital on the same day…”

“Pfff. Big words.” I grinned and started to grab the glass of water before making a noise I was sure must have been a recording of an animal being killed. _OW OW OW OW._ “Can you-“

“Already on it.” He smiled at me slightly, concern now definitely winning, and perched on the edge of the bed, putting the glass in my other hand and then taking it back as I tried and failed to lift it without being a wimp about it. “Open wide…”

“If you spill this on me on purpose or by accident I will kill you-“

“Shut up and focus.” He smiled again and raised his eyebrows. “It’s not like you’re wearing a white t shirt anyway, so…”

“Pfff. This is so undignified.” I glowered slightly, knowing I was also pouting slightly, and then tried not to laugh at the weird eye contact maintained as he gently tilted the glass to let me take a sip. “Thank you.”

“What you thanking me for, really? Having the decency to follow my friend’s ambulance to hospital?”

“Um, yeah?”

“Pff I thought you knew me a bit better than that.”

“I’m, er…not good at…” _What’s the best way to say this._ “…people being nice…” _Not that._

“What?”

“I’m not good at when people do nice things and they think they’re normal.” I coughed slightly and swore before accepting another sip, proving the point in miniature at how annoying that felt. “I feel guilty.”

“You’re not spoilt by your factory rider then?”

“He’s different.”

“Yeah, ok. I get it.”

“No…I don’t mean…sorry. I really appreciate it, anyway. I just meant he’s different because he…I don’t know. But I didn’t mean that badly.” I paused to take a breath, a deeper one than I’d been expecting, and more painful, and then felt his hand cover my good one and squeeze slightly.

“Hey. You ok?”

“Hmm…will be.” I bit my lip to try and control it before closing my eyes and sighing as I felt him get off the bed and heard the chair shuffle forward, fingers lacing through mine.

“It’s fucking scary isn’t it?”

_Now that’s something you do understand._ “Yup.”

“Did you realise what was happening?”

“Yes.”

“Ever crashed before?”

“Not on the road. Well, not with someone else, like that.”

He smiled at that slightly and raised his eyebrows. “Just you.”

“Yeah, but nothing major. Just, you know…stupidity and hedges. And pheasants.”

“Ha. In England, then?”

“Yup. Near Stratford Upon Avon was the worst one.” I made an eek face and squeezed his hand back as he did, more than aware of the distraction tactic and very appreciative. “Fucking pheasant in the middle of the road round a blind corner. And it wasn’t like I could just say ‘oh sorry’ and not try and miss it because that would probably have been even worse because it was huge. I was alright. The pheasant was alright. The bike broke my heart.”

“Yeah that’s always the worst, right? When you’ve checked you’re ok and then you look down and see the damage on the bike…”

“Honestly I cried and they thought I was either suffering terrible internal injuries or was mental.”

“What was it?”

“R6.”

“Ouch…”

“I KNOW.” I smiled back at the smile and took another deep breath, starting to calm down again. “Drink?”

“On it.” He grinned and picked it up again, standing up to be able to reach me with it, and managed again to not throw it all over me.

“You know I’m very impressed.”

“Impressed?”

“You’ve not insulted me or attacked me for almost an hour now, even with a loaded glass of water.”

“Thought I should give you the day off. Looks like you need it.” 

“And there we go…”

“Didn’t want to disappoint.”

“I’d hope not…” I smirked at him and nodded as he picked up the glass again, somehow obvious what he was asking, and then fought the urge to try and make him spill it as he took a sip. “Because you have a reputation, you know?”

“Oh really?”

“Yup. They don’t call you Redding Power for nothing, I heard…” I watched him laugh, and blush, and nod in equal measure. _Ha._ “But joking aside, MASSIVE thank you for being my saviour.”

“Stop it. It’s more than fine.”

“Ok.”

“Try and sound like you mean it…”

“Ok.” I squeezed his hand again and then nodded. “Ok. Thank you, but ok.”

“Good. That’ll do for now.” 

I opened my mouth to reply before jumping, painfully, as the door banged open and the most stressed person I’ve ever seen in real life appeared in the doorway. _The cavalry has arrived._ I looked back at Scott, nodding and giving his hand another squeeze, determined not to hide that, before smiling to myself as he got to his feet and kissed the top of my head on the way out.

“Look after yourself.”

“I will. Thank you.” I watched him walk past Jorge, patting him on the arm and saying something about me, trying to gauge what the reaction would be before Jorge turned and nodded, smiling at him and patting him on the back in a thank you, and then finally ended up in the same chair just vacated, hand finding mine and lips pressing a kiss on the back of it.

“I only went over on the Autovía, promise.”

“How much?”

“Quite a lot, and I would do it again.” He took a deep breath and then locked his eyes on mine. “Honestly, you’re ok?”

_The difference between this one, and the rest._ I stared back for a couple of seconds, watching the unspoken obviousness sink in, before shaking my head and feeling my cheeks get wet. “No.”

“You mean-“

“No. I…I mean it was fucking t-terrifying.”

“Ok. How much do you hurt-“

“Not too much on the left, just my fingers.”

“So you want-“

“P-please.”

“Ok.” He put the side of the bed down, then pulled the bottom layer sheet with me on it over to the right side of the bed and gently got in next to me, waiting for me to arrange myself around him before letting out a breath he’d obviously been holding for a while. “Jesus.”

“I will be fine, I promise. I’m just sc-“

“I know, it’s ok. Relax. Talk about it when you want to.”

"Ok." I let us sit there in comfortable but tense silence for a while. “But you’re not jealous.”

“I’m frustrated I wasn’t the one there, and probably going to send him a crate of beer to say thank you for staying.”

“Oh. He held my hand.”

“Yeah well...I meant it. I didn’t get naked in a cold pool for nothing…”

“We already made that worthwhile…”

“True.”

I felt him start to relax a bit more, and me relax a bit more, voice still wobbly but feeling more anchored in the reality of having come out of it ok, before taking a deep breath. “I was doing about 70km/h. She looked…” Cough. “She looked straight at me, and made eye contact, because I didn’t have the tinted visor on.” I bit my lip, feeling him hold on a bit tighter, hand squeezing mine. “And I slowed down anyway, because I’m sensible. And then she turned to look the other way…” _Please voice, at least sound half normal._ “And she just went. And that was scary. And I braked…a-and I got it slowed down a lot before I hit it, and I got thrown off…” I took another shaky few breaths before nodding to myself and closing my eyes. “And that was ok. That felt like it was just going…going to hurt. And then this v-van came round the corner and…and I was just l-lying there a-and I c-couldn’t m-“

“Stop.”

I shook my head slightly at the complete mess I’d turned into, sniffing, and then nodded. “Yeah. He did stop.” Another few breaths. “He did manage to stop, b-but it was so close.”

“But you’re ok-“

“I know. I just…I think…it was p-probably about 40cm f-from my face.” I gritted my teeth and tried to stop whimpering again as I felt his jaw clench, leaning slightly on my head. “And I c-could s-see it coming-“

“Fucking hell.” I felt the same lip biting, panic-induced wave of reaction go through him and concentrated on calming down enough to be able to talk, nodding to myself, before he pressed a kiss into my hair and let out another whoosh of breath. “ _Fuck_. I can’t imagine-”

“Y-yeah you can.”

“Nope. Not like that.” 

Another little wobble of something, before I felt myself kind of give up and cling on, leaving it a few minutes before feeling more normal. “I guess it w-would have been ironic, right?”

“Ana don’t-“

“Also…” I held up my bandaged fingers. “When we get married, our ring fingers are going to match-“

“Shit did you lose the end-“

“Yeah. Just a bit.” I managed to turn my head enough to get eye contact and watched the rest of that sink in, emotion coming back from the other side of the spectrum. _Just a bit._ “Hmm?”

“A-are _you_ proposing to _me?_ ”

“Of course not. That would be silly.” I weakly smiled up at the pure bliss on his face and nodded. “Yes. Because-”

“Then _yes_. For the same reason.”


	25. Intimate but Practical

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating changed. Sorry?
> 
> Or you're welcome... ;)
> 
> PLEASE let me know what you think? In any way!! ♥

“Ana. Get back in the bed.”

“I’m ok, I’m just-“

“ANA. GET BACK IN THE BED.”

“Pfff.” I tried not to wince as I did, giving it away too much and sighing at the ceiling in frustration. “This is so annoying.”

“I know.” He smiled at the look on my face and sat back down on the other side of the bed. “Not YOU. I mean I know how it feels. I’ll let you move on your own tomorrow, promise.”

“Oh how kind…”

He smiled across at me and then frowned at my hand. “Hang on…when did you do that?!”

I did my best I’m-obviously-guilty-and-not-really-trying-to-hide-it face and shrugged slightly. “No idea…haven’t moved…”

“I swear it’s like having a new baby. I imagine.” He smiled at me and rolled his eyes slightly before pressing a kiss to where I’d taped the engagement ring on the bandages. “But I guess we’ll find out…”

“Now is really not the best time for this discussion.”

“I know. Don’t want to talk about it, just…happy I can even mention it without it seeming crazy.”

_Stop being a bitch._ “Sorry I’m not much fun.”

“Yeah, I was hoping we’d do some base jumping today, too…”

“Don’t make fun of me it feels horrible-“

“Hey. I _know_ exactly how it feels.” He turned onto his side and propped his head on his elbow. “I’m just trying to stop you apologising for getting run over by a stranger.”

“Hmm.” I took a deep breath and leant my head back on the headboard. “Sorry.”

“Stop apologising or you WILL be sorry.”

“Don’t threaten the injured!”

“Lie down.”

“I don’t need to-“

“It’s easier if you lie down.”

“How romantic…”

“Jesus I swear to God, soon I’m going to gag you.”

“Oooh…” I smirked and wiggled my eyebrows before growling in frustration again. “Arghhh don’t. Don’t look at me. Don’t touch me. Don’t even talk to me, especially in Spanish. Until I can even contemplate being able to do anything more than kiss you without imagining the pain-“

“Lie down.”

I took a few shallow breaths and then slid down, reasonably elegantly, until I was looking up at him instead of down, and felt everything get slightly better again as he arranged himself around me and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Don’t get too close.” The words came out muffled into his chest, that proof enough that the advice was unheeded. “I need a shower.”

“Ok, you know when I say I love you…”

“Hmm.”

“That means all the time, not just when you’re healthy and washed. Unless, maybe, it’s been like 2 weeks since a shower just for fun. Then I would worry.”

“This is how it starts…”

“What?!” He rubbed his nose against mine and smiled again at the furrowed brow and pout in return. “How what starts?”

“The descent into being gross. When we leave the toilet door open and things like that. Intimate in bad ways.”

“Ah, yeah. Well…maybe not the toilet door, at least not _sometimes_ , but I think this is a bit different.”

“Hmm. I feel gross.”

“You want to shower?”

“Well, YES. But-“

“Hot tub. Hot tub?”

“Hot tub?”

“Yeah, I think that would be less painful.”

“What about my arm-“

“I think we can probably manage to waterproof that, and the change the dressing after anyway. Sound like a plan?”

“Sounds like heaven.”

“Ok. Good.” He pecked a kiss to the top of my head and headed into the en suite, calling back over his shoulder. “Which shampoo and conditioner are you actually using?”

“There’s only…” _Ah. No there’s actually those, too. And the damage repair-_ “The blue ones.”

“Ok. Bubble bath?”

“The lime one.”

“Right. Anything else?”

“No...”

“Ok. Stay there. I mean it…” He literally wagged his finger. “And I will fill it up, then come back for you, ok?”

“Ok.” _I love you._ “Thanks…”

“I mean it, if you try-“

“No, I won’t. Promise.”

*

“Ok?”

I let my legs float up slightly and leant my head back to lie flat in the water, him sat behind me staring down with raised eyebrows. “Yeah. Amazing. And we have spaaace.”

“Good. Can you still hear me?”

I shook my head, guessing the question from the tone and general noises echoing at me, before moving back slightly to let him hold me up and get the use of my ears back. “No.”

“Ok…better?”

“Hmm. Now how long do you think I have to soak before I’m clean-“

“Nope.” He bent his legs so I was supported that way and then grabbed the soap. “Now relax, and tell me if I hurt you.”

“You don’t have to-“

“Just _relax._ ” He lathered it in his hands and then ran his fingers over my arms, gentle circle motions, then neck, then over my chest, lips pressing a kiss to my cheek at the murmur of pleasure, before putting it down again and holding me up with his arms again. “I’m glad we have a hot tub. Even though soap in the hot tub is meant to ruin everything.”

“Me too.”

“I’m going to move now, ok?”

“Hmm.” I nodded and managed to hold myself up as he moved, ending up facing me and grabbing the soap again. 

“Ok?”

“Doesn’t hurt too much with less gravity.”

“Good.” 

I closed my eyes again and let myself float as his hands snaked round me to wash my back, lost in it again, before feeling his hand go between my legs and raising my head again. “No…”

“I have done it before…” He smiled at my slight blush and ran his fingers over my stomach again. “I think-“

“No, I mean…I can’t. Because you’re not going to let me grab you, are you?”

“That depends if it hurts.”

“It hurts. But it doesn’t hurt too much.”

“Ana…”

“Please…”I found his hand with mine and pulled him slightly, managing to end up underneath him and staring up, his hardness grazing my stomach before I pulled him into a kiss. “ _Please._ ” I felt him give in, shoulder almost slumping slightly with the desperate inevitability of it, fingers daring to take hold of me properly on my back where it didn’t hurt and then guide us together, lips finding mine again and both gasping into it, using my good hand to run down his back and dropping my voice to a whisper. “I love you, you know.”

“I know.” He kissed a line down my jaw and then neck before trusting we were balanced enough with one arm round me, his other hand going between my legs as he gently started to move, noticing the wince but not allowed to let go. “I should never have given into this.”

“Yes, you really should.” I wrapped my good arm round his neck and nodded into another kiss, groaning as he bit my lip, and then letting my head float back on the water as my neck got attacked by his tongue, closing my eyes and relaxing into the movement, hand grabbing into his hair, or at least the non broken fingers managing that, and then feeling the water shimmer around us as we both groaned at the same time, vibrations encouraging us both until I pulled him into another kiss and nibbled his lip. “ _Close…_ ”

“Hmm.” He smiled into my mouth and ran his hand down my back until his palm was flat against the small of my back, keeping the rhythm going, other hand moving faster and faster as my breathing got faster and faster, finally moaning with me as my muscles clenched around him and I went slack, held flush against his chest as I felt him follow me over the edge and both taking a few seconds before sharing another kiss. _Intimate but practical._ “That was quick…”

I nodded and pulled his bottom lip with my teeth before relaxing back again, eyes closed and relaxed as he pulled out and moved back underneath me, arms winding round me and lacing our fingers together across my stomach. “Was fairly turned on…”

“I gathered.”

“Your fault. Full body massage, soapy or not…be realistic.”

“Hmm. Does it hurt?”

“Not too bad. But I don’t know if it helped with getting clean…”

“Hmm, yeah. I did think about that. Maybe careful shower after.” He pressed his lips into the crook of my neck and his hands squeezed mine before we lapsed into silence for a few minutes, that then getting the better of me again and grinding down slightly. “Ana…”

“Doesn’t hurt…” I managed to crane my neck enough to press our lips together before moving our hands lower and making the point, groaning again as his fingers freed themselves of mine and kept going, before letting his mouth roam over my neck as he pushed inside, one arm snaking round to hold me in place, the other staying between my legs, teasing, more confident now I wasn’t going to break, even more confident at the noise and reactions before daring to sink his teeth into my shoulder slightly, feeling the tremor go through both of us, fingers between my legs starting to have a purpose more than teasing, reaction to that echoing round the bathroom and leaving a soft _fuck, Ana_ whispered into my ear. _Yes, please fuck Ana._


	26. Funny Story, Part 2

_“Funny story…”_

I cringed at the tone and looked over at Jorge, mouthing who it was. “Oh please don’t tell me…”

_“Left arm. Some dick trying to be a hero on the final lap.”_

“Shiiit. Are you ok? As in, will it heal ok, are you going to Misano, etc etc…?”

_“I’m fine because it’s a neat fracture, so should be good as new. If any of me is anymore…”_

“Scott you’re still a baby you are definitely as good as new.”

_“Pff. But thank you. And no, not going to Misano.”_

“Not going or not racing?”

_“Not going. Can’t race, this weekend at least, so may as well stay here around the doctors and annoy them a bit more with my impatience.”_

“Sounds like a plan.”

_“Are you going?”_

I looked over at Jorge again, eyes narrowed. “I want to go…” His face darkened and he shook his head. “But my nurse doesn’t want to let me.”

_“Sorry to say this but I think that’s a good idea. You’ll only make it worse.”_

“Yeah, I know. I just don’t want to be locked in here all weekend with lovely people to look after me who are still all strangers. I think it’s worth the pain.”

_“None of your friends can do it?”_

“Everyone has a job. And I made them all use their leave on races already, basically. And to call my parents you’d have to pay me millions.”

_“So you’re going unless someone can help you out?”_

“Yes. And Jorge is growling at me.”

_“Would he growl if a handsome British Moto2 rider with his wrist in a cast offered to come and stay?”_

“Maybe combust.”

_“And what about you?”_

“You’re injured.”

_“I am. One arm. I think the other arm could probably bench press you anyway on its own.”_

“No bench pressing needed. Just walking around. And changing the dressing on my gross arm.”

_“My fingers work.”_ I could hear the smirk. _“My fingers work fine…”_

“Oh, I’m sure.”

_“I’m kind of serious though. Everyone here is leaving. I don’t want to go home because it’s only for a few days and the doctors here are more useful.”_

“Just you…”

_“Just me. Callum is going without me.”_

“What?”

_“I know. He met a girl. Promised to take her. For some reason my team like him enough to have given her my seat on the plane. So he’s having a free weekend of it and fucking off.”_

“That’s nice. For everyone but you.”

_“Story of my life…”_

“Spare me the self-pity. I can hear the smile…”

_“Pfff. Fair enough. So when’s he leaving?”_

“Jorge?”

_“Yeah…”_

“Um, are you actually being serious?”

_“Yeah…”_

“Well then I’m definitely going to have to call you back.”

_“You know it sounds like he has a lot too much control-“_

“It’s not like that. This is a sensitive issue, ok?”

_“You mean me…”_

“No, I don’t. I mean…ok no, not talking about this now. Not you, Mr Arrogant. I will call you back.”

_“Ouch that was so uncalled-“_

I cut him off and rolled my eyes before turning to the dreading but expectant face next to me. _Hey so…Scott Redding is going to be my nurse!_ “That was Scott…”

“I gathered…”

“He broke his arm and isn’t going to Misano…” I watched him connect all the dots of the conversation and then kind of collapse into the sofa properly to stare at the ceiling.

“Oh seriously…”

“He can do all the things that the horrible expensive people would do, and it means I won’t have to cry myself to sleep.” _ARGH backtrack._ “I mean I won’t be moping around alone. Sleeping will be separate.”

His eyes were more ‘hunted and crazy wild beast’ than human. “YES IT WILL.”

_Oh Lord are you actually going to let this happen?!_ “Are you serious?”

“That’s my line!”

“Seriously?!”

“The thought of it makes me feel physically sick. The thought of you not being there in general is horrible. But the thought of you actually trying to go and hobbling around in pain is way worse. So…”

“So…”

“So it’s not up to me, is it? It’s our house. He’s your friend.” The words came out softer and slower, with a hint of defensive shrug, but seemed fairly genuine, if painful to say.

“I know, but…you know…”

“I do. And I will try my fucking best to not smash anything or call you every 5 minutes, but I might find it hard. Is that a fair compromise?”

“Compromise?”

“Yeah. Your compromise is that you don’t go, and you bear with me and the paranoia…and mine is that I let a British, flirty holidaymaker into our house with my wounded fiancé.”

I watched the pained but cheeky smile appear from under the obvious _effort_ to agree to this and nodded, beckoning him over with a grin. “Ok. I’m very impressed.”

“There will be a moment when I call you and get stressed…”

“And that’s ok as long as it’s progress.”

“Very true.” He sat down next to me and raised his eyebrows. “Allowed back on this sofa now am I?”

“I already explained-“

“I know.” He tilted my chin up to look at him and nodded, smiling. “Just don’t like being over there when I could be over here…”

“I know. I’m sorry I’m difficult-“

“I think we’re both difficult in different ways...”

“Ok I agree.” I grinned at the mock offense on his face and leaned in for a kiss. “And are you really sure you don’t want me to try-“

“No, I don’t.” He arranged himself around me again, how we’d been about an hour before, before I’d had a small explosion of general _everything get away from me_ and crankiness, and I felt the satisfied sigh as I relaxed into it. “It would be hard enough anyway. But it’s seriously behind enemy lines, too.”

“Is that more the reason why you’re agreeing-“

“It’s a big part of it. Priority one is you feeling and getting better. But I trust you.” Kiss into my hair. “So it will hurt, but…” _Deep breath._ “It’s not a bad idea.”

“Can you repeat that for when you’re crying down the phone-“

“No.”

“Fair enough.” I managed to paw at him slightly with my bad arm and pressed a kiss against his chest before putting my phone on him and calling back, on speaker on his chest.

_“Did you find the prison guard?”_

“Jajajaja.” I giggled at that, and at Jorge’s half incredibly amused and half wanting to throw the phone across the room face, and then nodded at the phone to get him to talk and get some revenge.

“Hi Scott…”

The kerfuffle was impressive. _“Oh fuck. Hi. Sorry I was only joking…”_

“Jejeje. He knows. But he decided he can’t let you in the house, now.”

_“That was mean.”_

“You spoke before I had chance to tell you!”

_“Is this the ground rules conversation or the one where you tell me to get lost?”_

“Neither. It’s on speaker because I’m being cuddled and I only have one good arm.”

_“Use the good arm…”_

“That’s needed for the cuddling, which is an important part of my healing process.”

_“Am I still on speaker?”_

“Well yeah…”

_“Then…go away.”_

“Do you mean ‘FUCK OFF’?”

_“Yes but-“_

“Ok seriously, no one is ruder to me than Jorge, so don’t worry about it.”

“Hey! I’m not rude-“

“You are. You are the rudest, but then also the everything else-ist, so it’s ok.”

“Hmm. I still think it sounds like he’s ruder-“

“I’m rude to you too-“

_“Hello, I’m still here.”_

“Ah, yeah. Sorry! Well…yeah. Do you know the address? Bring what you need for yourself and absolutely no other people I don’t know, because I look gross.”

_“I don’t like speakerphone.”_

“Yes baby, we’ll be locked in alone allllll weekend…”

_“Can I make normal jokes?”_

“Yes.”

_“Right ok. Well…I’ll see you tomorrow then I guess. And I’m not helping with the toilet.”_

“That’s the best bit!”

_“Urgh-“_

“She’s joking, she’s joking. She won’t let me help with that.”

_“Sounds like you wanted to…”_

“It was definitely more ‘willing’ …”

_“Haha ok. Right then, talk soon? Feel better Ana. And…have a good race, mate.”_

“Thank you.”

“You t- ah. No. You’ll be here. Ok…yeah. Probably see you tomorrow then, for the prisoner exchange…”

I could hear the British lobster face and cringe from there. _Poor baby._ I looked up at my smirking Mallorcan and joined him in a laugh at the flustered goodbye before ending up taking a deep breath and settling back down to our last day of peace.

“Officer, I need some orange juice…”

I felt his teeth clench through my hair and smiled to myself. _I know, I am a fucking nightmare._ “Right…”


	27. King of the Castle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still going with the updating :D :D part one of the Misano weekend... ;)
> 
> Thanks for reading and everything...you're so quiet on this one? :/ sorry if I seem needy but please hit me with any feedback of good or bad kind ♥ enjoy...

“Ok, please be nice?”

“I am nice!”

“You are my King. But you also know _exactly_ what I mean.”

He raised his eyebrows at me and did his best _who, me?!_ face before leaning down to press a kiss into my hair and nodding his way off across the room. “I will be nice to the child.”

“Jorge…”

“Youth isn’t a bad thing?!”

“YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN, LORENZO!” I smiled as I saw the reflection of him giving me the finger as he disappeared to the door, then listened as he opened it and switched into English, greeting Scott warmly enough, small talk getting closer and louder to me until they were both in the room, Jorge gesturing at my laid up patheticness on the sofa as if to say _here it is, you decide if we should put it down or not._

“The prisoner is here.”

I glared at him and gave him the finger before taking a bit of a breath at Scott’s face, sinking in again quite what a mess I looked, and then studied my fiancé extremely carefully as the Brit walked over and kissed me on the top of the head. _Impressive. Not growling._

“Hey up.”

“You’re not northern. But hello.”

“Maybe I am, who knows? You alright?”

“I know, as does everyone else. And I know, your face says it all. I think we forgot how gross I was.” I looked back at Jorge again and smiled slightly at the admonishing infinitesimal shake of the head.

“Nah, not gross. I’m not here to perv on you, mate. I’m here to make sure you’re not going to die alone.”

“Wow, thanks.”

“No problem.” He grinned at me and then looked back at Jorge, smile slightly more nervous, before motioning round the room. “Right, your house looks complicated. Anything obvious I need to know?”

“First, the cleaner and gardener came today so if anyone else turns up you should shoot first, ask questions later.”

“Right…”

I smiled at the amused look on Scott’s face and nodded to myself. _See, not too bad when you see behind the scowling. Which I say with love._

“Other than that, I’ll show you the kitchen which I think is most important, but everything is simple except the light, and Ana has the finger to use the remote, so…”

“Right, ok. When are you off?”

I watched them walk off and took a deep breath, suddenly realising the situation and trying to stop the images flashing behind my eyes. _Misano. The land of yellow. Alone. And Scott Redding as a nurse for 4 days._

*

“How’s the arm, then Redding Power?”

“Not too bad. Fucking annoying.”

“Know the feeling. Although it’s not keeping me from anything important like you really.”

“Yeah bad timing though, right?”

“Bad timing?”

“Misano. Valentino’s home race…”

“Well, yeah. Solidarity would have been better.”

“Worried he’ll get hit again?”

“No. Worried he’ll combust about us? Worried he’ll lose his temper at the press? Maybe a bit.”

“Us.”

“Don’t. You know what I mean.”

“Is he really that threatened by me?”

“A bit. How much do you know the past?”

“His or yours?”

“His.”

“Maybe enough…I can imagine it’s a bit hard to trust people after that.”

“Exactly. I have faults too, so we’ll be ok.”

“Good.”

“Not going to try and take advantage?” I looked at his face and winced. “I mean of the situation, not me. I know you would never.”

“No.” Smile. “I like messing with you, but I’m not a dick. And you’re not that type of girl. I hope.”

“I’m not that type of girl. Would you care to tweet that to the Italian media?”

“Ha, yeah. Irony. You ever going to tell me the truth?”

“I’m not sure. But being here and doing this is certainly a good tick in the box.”

“Good.” He smiled and pointed at the water glass on the table as I tried to reach it, then passed it to me and sighed. “Bit weird being friends with a girl.”

“Normally a fuck and run?”

He turned to me, eyebrows raised, and shook his head. “Not too bad, despite…everything. Only when that’s a pre-agreed strategy between me and her, you know…”

“Strategy. Wow. Such romance.”

“Hey, you asked!”

“Yeah fair enough, I did.” I passed him the glass back and nodded as he picked up the TV remote, feeling the same. “Wouldn’t rather be doing that now? Although I guess the strategy is harder with a broken arm…”

“Hmm I think I’d still do ok. Head down to Benidorm and pretend I’m a lost Englishman…”

“Jaja. Sounds like you’ve done that before…”

“Not really. I prefer training up here. Normal people. Spanish people.”

“Careful…”

“Hmm. People who aren’t English and can describe themselves how they want?”

_Wow. Knowledge._ “Probably better."

"Good. And no, on balance I think, despite the fact you're not going to have sex with me, which is a great shame, being here is pretty good."

_Aww._ "Scott?”

“Yeah?”

“I promise I won’t say it again, but thank you so much.” I felt the emotion hit me slightly and squeezed his hand, just about, trying to skip over it.

“You’re welcome. How are you feeling now? It’s 4 hours since the last dose…”

“Not too bad to be honest.” _You even breezed over it like I wanted you to._ “Getting hungry though…”

“Yeah me too. You choose a film…and I will get food. Somehow…sound like a plan?”

“It’s weird imagining someone else using the kitchen who isn’t me. Or Ricky.”

“Well to be fair it is pizza. Oven, power…boom…”

“Still.” I smiled at the incredulous look and nodded. “Yup. He’s a disaster.”

“Step 1 on my plan to woo you looks good then…”

“GO.” I grinned up at the cheeky smile looking down at me and pointed in the right direction. “I’ve spent enough time in bedrooms with you lately…”

“Ah yeah. Well can’t say you didn’t enjoy it.”

“I don’t remember half of it!”

“Tut tut. It was ok. I put your clothes back on so you wouldn’t know…”

“So not funny…”

“Nah. You spooned me though, for about 10 minutes.”

“I don’t know whether to believe you.” I narrowed my eyes and nervously read the honesty correctly. “Hmm…”

“Not too bad. That’s when I pushed you off the dock and separated the beds.”

“A gentleman after all.” _Shit it started off as one?!_

“Always. What do you want to drink? And don’t try and tell me wine, I had that chat from your boyfriend.”

“Jeje fuck. Well…first of all, I would still like wine. If my prison officer won't do wine, then fruit something will do. And second, he’s not my boyfriend, he’s now my fiancé.” I smiled at the happy shock on his face and nodded. “Yup…”

“Ok. I’m going to put the pizza on, and then you’re going to pretend we’re American girls and gossip about how he did it. Ok?”

“Would be, except I asked him.”

“Oh.” Disappointment followed by puzzlement. “Right…”

“It’s a modern world…”

“No, I just mean now I see you’ve got a ring and-“

“Ah, yeah. There is still some gossip for you if you want it.”

“I DO.” He beamed and then started walking off. “Get it?!”

_Groan._ “Yes, I do…”

*

“Right.”

I cringed slightly as he leant back with a satisfied sigh, pizza vamooshed, and put his good arm behind me on the back of the sofa, stretching out and grinning through raised eyebrows before seeing my face.

“Just joking, sor-“

“No, not that. Sorry I thought you were going to forget and touch me.”

“Touchhh you.”

“Fuck off. You know what I mean. It took Jorge 2 full minutes to manage to get us comfy this morning so don’t touch me without warning.”

“Ah but I know what I’m doing…”

“Trust me when I say he knows what he’s doing.” I grinned at the slight blush and nodded. “But no, there is a knack. You can hug me if you cry at the film but you’ll have to be organised about it.”

“Noted.”

“Don’t smirk.”

“I always smirk.”

_God I’m so glad you’re here. Of all the people in the paddock to be nursed by, you’d expect you to be the shittest. And yet…_ “Yeah I seem to have noticed.”

“Good. Right, so engagement story?”

“Well after the crash we were all clichéd ‘ah the value of life’ kind of thing, and I asked. And he said yes. And then we got back, and there were 99 red roses and a ring waiting for me.”

“Awww classic but classy.”

“Exactly. And low key-ish. Best part being he already had the ring.”

“Awwwwwww! Jesus well I guess it has been a while for you-“

“It’s been almost no time as a couple, and a lonnggg time as one of the most important people in my life. Will that do for now, Mr Fishing-for-Gossip?”

“Hmm. Maybe. And I would have got you 100, screw the numbers.”

“Ahh technically actually there were 100.” I smiled to myself and picked up the DVD remote. “I forgot the one between his teeth...” I smiled at his expression and then nodded as he put his arm back there. _Game, set, match._


	28. Queen of Hearts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluff warning. I was just in that mood... ♥
> 
> Thank you for reading etc etc...more from Misano soooon ;)

_“Hey, it’s me. Hope I didn’t wake you up.”_

“Hello you. No you didn’t.”

_“Good. I’m sorry I couldn’t call-“_

“I know. You’re working.”

_“Still, I feel-“_

“I know you feel. And I won’t forget that whether you call me every hour or every week.”

_“I’m happy with what you’re saying but very annoyed at being interrupted.”_

“Jeje.” I smiled into the phone and could imagine the same on the other end of the line. “Taste of your own medicine, _demonio._ ”

_“Pfff whatever. How are you feeling, ángel?”_

_Awww._ “Kind of shit. In the interests of not becoming a drug addict I stopped taking the stuff last night…it was doing more of a good job than I thought.”

_“Shit. God, I wish I was there. Bad timing. The story of our relationship…”_

“Hmm maybe. Although all the timing combined at least gave us one.”

_“True. How is it with Redding?”_

“I love how you don’t use his first name.”

_“Oh, sorry. How is it with Baby Scott?”_

“Don’t be mean…”

_“Jeje. Please tell me now, it feels like my whole skin is itching.”_

“I’m so fucking impressed it’s this long you’ve lasted already. It’s good. He’s fun. We like similar things. It’s a match made in heaven…”

_“Don’t…”_

“And his big strong muscles feel so good when they carry me upstairs-“

_“Ana don’t fucking joke-“_

“See, you know it’s a joke. I miss you like crazy. And I beat your goal record in on Fifa.”

_“WHAT.”_

“Jeje I know. Scott lost 6-0 to me yesterday. Clásico. He wasn’t exactly Elche.”

_“Shit sounds like I have some practice to do.”_

“Oh you do.” I smiled again at the soft laugh and nodded to myself. “Speaking of, how was it?”

_“Which bit?”_

“All of it.”

_“Bike, good. Me, very good. Track, good. Everything else, extremely difficult.”_

“I can’t imagine.”

_“I’ve never felt so hated in my life.”_

“Oh babe…don’t say that. It’s the worst race for it, too. Just remember that. It won’t be everywhere.”

_“I know. I’m not too bad considering. There were still fans wanting to talk to me at least. I just…it’s so frustrating because I’m not even that guilty.”_

“I know. But you know that, I know that…it’s ok. It will pass. And after it all, when there is just you and me and baby Lorenzos, we’ll be better for it and it won’t matter, because we will.”

_“And then you say something like that and I realize I never felt so loved, either.”_

“Good. Because…ok it’s late and since I stopped taking the painkillers I have been allowed wine-“

_“I knew that kid was trouble.”_

“Shush. But yeah sorry I’m going to be soppy but that’s the best thing you’ve ever said. Because you’ve never been more loved and maybe you’re finally realizing it. I find it hard to imagine anyone has ever loved anyone how much I love you.”

_“R-right.”_

“Aww please don’t be emotional, the bed is so empty.”

_“S-sorry. I just…I’m too far away and I-“_

“I know. I really know. Looking on the bright side we might be able to have sex on dry land by the time you get back.” I bit my lip and felt my chest constrict at the little upset laugh and _sounds great, I don’t like being shipwrecked_ before taking a deep breath and shifting slightly to get comfier. “How many do you want? Let’s talk about the future and the good stuff.”

_“Kids?”_

“Yes.”

_“Plural. However many you want. I just want a family with you.”_

“Same.” Another wobble. “Same. I kind of always imagined 2 or 3. But more than 1.”

_“Sounds perfect. Now the big question…when?”_

“I’m good to go.” I laughed at the _arrgh!_ and shook my head. “Nah, not yet. When you retire or when you’re near to it, I guess. Especially once we’re more allowed out in public, we should take advantage of the freedom.”

_“Sounds good. Will you make us name one of them Scott?”_

“Yeah definitely. I’m glad you brought that up because I was nervous about it to be honest. But if you’re on board-“

_“Sometimes I want to throw you in the pool.”_

“Sometimes I want to throw you off a cliff.”

_“Jeje fuck off.”_

“Welcome back, Jorge Lorenzo. Chin up, baby. You’re going to be on pole at least.”

_“Yes I am. I am now I’ve talked to you, anyway. You want to go to sleep now?”_

“Yeah I should. Unless you need me, in which case I will stay up-“

_“I need you, but I need healthy you. Get some sleep and call me when you wake up. Please?”_

“Ok. And same, which includes your head. So don’t let them in there. Just me and you. Ok?”

_“Ok. Love you, speak in the morning.”_

“Ok Sparta, ciao for now…” I listened to him wait for it, imagining the indignant face, before smiling at the _excuse me but I think you forgot something._ “Jeje. Just teasing. I LOVE YOU. Night night.”

_“Ciaoooooo….”_

“Ok go now. Go.”

_“Don’t make me come back there and make you put the phone down, Anita.”_

“Pfff FINE. Love you and bye bye.” I cancelled the call as demanded and then rolled my eyes at my patheticness and typed out one last thing.

Ana: Also please try and smile more in the pit box, it makes people worry ;)

Jorge: Jejeje :P trying to change me already…

Ana: ‘Improve’, I thought you liked that :P

Jorge: I do, not sure that’s an improvement :P

Ana: It’s not a show if you mean it

Jorge: It’s not really a weekend for smiling

Ana: Yes it is. Not sure if you noticed but we just decided about the next 25 years of our lives, together. I am healing although painfully, you’re going to fucking win this race, and they’re going to hate you for it, and that’s going to feel sooooooo good. Just admit it ;)

Jorge: Winning in Italy is amazing ;)

Ana: Jejeje there we go. Just remember I’m watching… ;)

Jorge: Remember I have secret CCTV at home :P

Ana: Well then you obviously didn’t watch the tape yet if you’re not screaming :/

Jorge: DON’T :P

Ana: Hahaha don’t start what you can’t finish :P 

Jorge: You’re supposed to be going to sleep

Ana: Scott’s snoring

Jorge: ANA

Ana: JORGE

Jorge: Ana…

Ana: Jorge…

Jorge: Right, twice in the pool with no warning once you can walk

Ana: What a threat! ;) :P

Jorge: I won’t be following you in

Jorge: And I won’t be turning on the heater :P

Ana: I’m hot enough

Jorge: Ok I surrender to your wisdom. Love you, sleep well xxxxxxx

Ana: Jorge?

Jorge: Yes?

Ana: NEVER SURRENDER

Ana: And if you get paranoid remember one thing…

Ana: Te amo xxxx 

*

_“Ok how bad was it on TV?”_

“Not too bad. Scott was impressed too.”

_“Really?”_

“Yup. Weren’t you?”

“I was.”

“He says he was.”

_“Ok good.”_

“Holy shit did you just accept his opinion?!”

_“I always said I wanted to be a role model for kids.”_

I giggled into the phone and tried to not look too guilty, in no way successful. “You are a cruel man.”

_“Hmm. You mean like when I-“_

“Do not go there right now, Lorenzo. I’m warning you.”

_“Jeje. God I feel better already. Tell it to me straight, though.”_

“Ok well the question was mean, but you dealt with it well. You didn’t look guilty.”

_“Ok good. Scott agree?”_

“Yeah when we were watching he went ‘oooh good save’. So I think you’re ok.”

_“Good.”_

“Also…CONGRATULATIONS ON POLE.”

_“Thank you. The wink was for you…”_

“I hoped so.”

_“And I smiled…a bit…”_

“I know. I’m very impressed. Anything smashed in the motorhome?”

_“Two cups yesterday. Today I ripped a leaflet. I’m a rockstar.”_

“Jeje. Hmm ok not too bad. What leaflet was it?”

_“Wilco’s idea of a joke. Lap dancing club, with ‘have some fun before you marry her’ written on it. I did laugh, it was just the closest thing at the time when I turned the TV on to see Vale’s grinning face.”_

_You said his name without dying. Good._ “Hmm don’t turn on the TV.”

_“I haven’t done it again. Is it being talked about much in the coverage?”_

“Nope. The odd word, but they’re being as professional as you’d hope. On MotoGP.com, anyway. We’ve not watched Spanish because Scott doesn’t understand it.”

_“Ah ok. Do me a favour and record the race on TV?”_

“Are you sure that’s a good-“

_“I just want to know. I promise. I’m doing ok aren’t I? Behind enemy lines and no one got killed…”_

“I’m very impressed. Maybe it’s actually easier without me there.”

_“No.”_

_Concise._ “Fair enough…”

_“Sorry, I just…it’s not. I can control myself however you want me to when you’re here.”_

“It’s not how I want you to-“

_“No, sorry. I said that wrong. I mean, I can…I don’t know. It’s just different.”_

“Good different.”

_“You make me a better man.”_

_And there you go._ I held the phone to my chest for a second and looked over at the very sleepy Brit next to me on the sofa. “Scott?”

“Hmm?”

“Can you give me a few minutes in private?” _So I can whimper alone._

“Yeah, no problem. I’ll go and get a drink. You want anything?”

“Nope. Thank you.”

“All good.” 

I smiled and watched him go before pressing the faint _helloo? Hello?_ back to my ear and taking a deep breath. “Sorry, I’m back. Just needed to get a bit of privacy.”

_“Maybe a good idea. Sorry I’m kind of ok until it goes dark and…I don’t know. Maybe it’s because even from the start, it went dark…I had something on my mind…I talked to you.”_

“I know, almost like a blast from the past except I can say what I mean when I say I care.”

_“I know.”_

We sat there in silence for a few seconds before I leant back slightly on the sofa and looked up at the ceiling. “You know I always thought that’s what I wanted to hear someone say and I wasn’t wrong.”

_“That’s how I always wanted to feel.”_

“You know it’s the other way round though, right?”

_“Be serious.”_

“I’m dead serious. You know everything about me, and you accept everything. And you still think I’m somehow worth-“

_“Ana? It wasn’t your fault.”_

“I know.”

_“Promise me you know.”_

“I-I promise.”

_“Ok, good. This is what I mean. Things happen, they change you. And you came out of it like this, and I…came out of it needing this.”_

“Believe me, I need this. You know I liked you, even when you seemed like a prick.” I listened to him laugh slightly and nodded to myself. “Because you have a reason why you do things. And to me at least it’s obvious that reason comes from a good place.”

_“I try to make sure it does.”_

“Well you know, you already know my biggest fear…”

_“Repeating your parents’ mistakes.”_

“Yup. So…”

_“So…”_

“So l didn’t even really want to have kids because that scared me so much. I know that sounds stupid, because I know I’m still very lucky, but I didn’t trust I could do a good enough job.”

_“You can. You’re going to be-“_

“I know I am and I know I can. Because their dad isn’t going to let me fuck it up.” There was a long silence before I managed to smile at the little sniff and nod to myself. “And if I’m saying that about you, you know what that means.”

_“You trust me more than I deserve so far.”_

“Nope. It means I know absolutely that you aren’t going to do that either. So on balance I think you win the award for not being an idiot when it would have been easier to be.” The was a long pause before he obviously managed to control himself enough to reply.

_“I like winning.”_

_I like you winning._ “I know you do, babe.” I could feel us both relax again at the lighter tone, no more needed to be said, and nodded at the hovering Scott appeared in the doorway. “You’re good at it. Now I need to go and maneuver myself to bed.”

_“Tell him I’ll saw his fingers off if they wander.”_

“He says he’ll saw your fingers off if they wander.”

Two middle fingers popped up at me.

“Yeah he wants you to go fuck yourself.”

_“Didn’t hear him reply…?”_

“The gesture was enough.”

_“Jaja ok. Right…go. Sleep. Heal.”_

“You too. Sleep well. Races to win, Italians to beat…”

_“I thought you were meant to be friends with him.”_

“I am. Him, Casey, Nicky…I still want to see you win by 17.710 seconds.”

_“Is that a specific number for a reas-“_

“Le Mans 2009.”

_“Stalker.”_

“Rockstar.”

_“Angel…”_

“You’re not a devil.”


	29. Glory and Gravel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Been a while again, 1 of 2 for tonight...hope that's a good apology? ♥

Me: Are you awake?

Scott: Am now

Me: I need rescuing

Scott: Naked in the shower?? :D

Me: Pff no, but quite embarrassing

Scott: Oh no…

Me: I’m technically sat on the toilet…

Scott: Noooooooo

Me: But the lid is shut and I’m not using it

Me: Was sat on it to brush my hair and kicked the crutches 

Me: #BathroomIannone

Scott: Hahahahaha #BathroomIannone has to become a thing

Scott: On my way…

Me: Thanks… *angry face*

Scott: *cute face*

Me: Always ;)

_“Are you alive??”_

“Yeah. And dressed...”

_“So can I come in?”_

“Yeah that was the point of rescue...”

_“Right…”_

I smiled at him as the door opened, face very much more nervous than it probably should have been, before relaxing as he saw that dressed really meant dressed.

“See? Dressed.”

“Does that count as dressed?”

“Don’t be mean.” I narrowed my eyes and looked down at the outfit; grey jogging bottoms and a massive Alpine stars t shirt that must have been big on its owner – Jorge – too, and then glared back. “I’m comfy and injured.”

“And stuck on a bog.”

“Yes and looking at you I don’t know what you’ve got to be smug about.”

“Hey, at least my stuff is all black.”

“Yeah you look slightly like you’re from a 90s boyband.”

“Not too bad. I’m not stuck on a toilet though.”

“Fuck off and help?”

“Well…which?”

“Don’t smirk at me, Redding Power. You know I’m angry enough-“

“Ok, ok. Calm down.” He smirked again, slightly, and then bent down next to huffy me and wrapped one arm around me. “Ready?”

“Always…”

“But aside from motivational quotes, actually ready?”

I gritted my teeth and nodded, long low _owwwwww_ echoing round the bathroom as we made it to standing. “Ok go go go go…”

“Go where?”

“Sofa, downstairs, just let’s keep moving.”

“Ok. Yell if we’re going too fast.”

“Heard that before…”

“And you say _I’m_ the flirt…”

“You’re worse than me.” _Please keep me talking._ “Definitely…” I grimaced as we reached the stairs, fingertips digging into him a bit tight, and then winced my way down as the bickering continued. 

“I’m not. I’m just a normal bloke forced to look at the most beautiful woman in Spain all day and do nothing about it.”

“Thanks and everything but there you go again…”

“Have you seen yourself in a mirror?”

“Yeah have you seen me without make up?”

“Yeah I have actually-“

“Ah, shit. True. Well then you know you’re lying-“

“Not lying. Maybe talking it up a _bit_ …”

“Hey!”

“Oh so you are vain enough to accept that then?”

“No…”

“Ha. So shut up and accept it.”

“Wow that really won me over…manners…”

“Manners, yup. Muscles, yup. I’m perfect.”

“Oh dear…”

“You love it.”

*

@AnaRoja: We’re having a competition for best “I want to be in Misano” pout…@ReddingPower or me, who wins? pic.twitter.com/ojnfwb

_Retweeted by Scott Redding, Jorge Lorenzo and 105 others._

@lorenzo99: “@AnaRoja: We’re having a competition for best “I want to be in Misano” pout…@ReddingPower or me, who wins? pic.twitter.com/ojnfwb” You!! ♥

@AnaRoja: @ReddingPower @lorenzo99 thanks :D morning ;)

@lorenzo99: @AnaRoja @ReddingPower morning! ;) miss you, amor!

@ReddingPower: @lorenzo99 @AnaRoja morning mate, that’s a bit forward

@lorenzo99: @ReddingPower @AnaRoja jajaja yeah not you

@ReddingPower: @lorenzo99 @AnaRoja haha have a good race mate

@lorenzo99: @ReddingPower @AnaRoja thanks, I will try! 

*

“What happened now…”

“Reading all the shit.”

“Bad?”

“Thanks.” I took the coffee and blew over the top, still reading through the torrents of abuse coming through, and links to articles and tabloid bullshit that were still raging, before looking back up and nodding. “Yup, not good. You shouldn’t be publicly seen here you know…”

“I’m alright with it. Would be nice to know exactly what happened…”

“Need to be drunker for that.”

“So after the race?”

“Pff.” I went back to reading and then flicked my eyes back up, shrugging and smirking slightly, eyebrows raised. “That depends on what happens.”

“Also…drunk _er_?!”

“Oh. Yeah, no I haven’t been drinking yet.”

“I like the inevitability.”

“That’s a big word, Scott. Careful.”

*

@AnaRoja: Good luck @NickyHayden, @OfficialCS_27, @26_DaniPedrosa and @ValeYellow46… safe race!

@lorenzo99: @AnaRoja cough…

@AnaRoja: Was also going to wish good luck seperately to @lorenzo99 but won’t bother now ;) [te amo, be careful ♥ ]

*

“Look I know you can’t cheer for me but literally anyone else-“

“So I’m not allowed to cheer for Pol, not allowed to cheer for-“

“No.”

“Well then fuck you I’m cheering for Marc.”

“God please just anyone else-“

“You said that about Pol AND Andrea so now I’m cheering for Marc and tough fucking shit.”

“Pffff just because he’s pretty-“

“Yeah he fucking is. And that is the best livery of all time. PLUS you’re not even there so shut up.”

“Does Jorge know you ogle Moto2 riders?”

“It’s not ogling, it’s just true. Have you actually _seen_ him-“

“Um, yeah…”

“Well Jorge has eyes too so I’m sure he’ll understand.”

“Good attribute for a rider, eyes.”

“Fuck off.”

“Seriously did you secretly drink 5 pints or something-“

“No.” I took a deep breath and tried to calm down. “Sorry. Just getting closer to kick off…”

“You’re lucky I know you know you’re stuff, otherwise that would be a big problem.”

“Kick off?”

“Lights out…”

“You say that. But I think it’s more likely to fucking kick off.”

“Ah…”

“Can we not talk about it and quietly support Marc, please?”

“First bit yes, second bit no.”

“Good enough for now.”

*

@AnaRoja: Great #moto2 race! Nerves now seriously kicking in over #MotoGP…

@ReddingPower: She’s not kidding, it’s ugly RT @AnaRoja: Great #moto2 race! Nerves now seriously kicking in over #MotoGP…

@AnaRoja: Also I am reading all the tweets calling me a whore, FYI. Thanks for that, it’s helping me get over the crash that almost killed me

@AnaRoja: Scott is a friend and also injured, so we’re watching the racing together

_Scott Redding retweeted one of your tweets_

@ReddingPower: I think she’s trying to say ‘if you have a problem with that, fuck off’

“Ok you really shouldn’t. I really shouldn’t but it’s really really difficult to not-“

“I know. And I know. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologise for being badass.”

“Is that a Lorenzo quote?”

“Pff. No. His would be more ‘don’t apologise to the people in the valley, for they have not known the summit’.”

I looked over in time to see the giggles hit, his face creasing completely and trying hard to not spill his drink and get it back onto the dry land of the table, before I ended up joining him in it and wincing through it, eventually conceding defeat and passing my drink over for him to put down.

“Sorry…”

“I have known the summit, so don’t worry.” I looked back at the smirk and rolled my eyes. “Don’t even.”

*

“Fuck…”

“It’s-“

“Don’t talk until lap 3. House rule.”

“Right…”

_Fuck._ I bit my lip and took a last few breaths, closing my eyes for a few seconds as they lined up, and then opened them and felt my fingers dig into Scott’s good arm, although obviously not too bad, because he didn’t complain about it, and we kept pretty quiet for most of it, until 3 laps to go.

When a Repsol Honda and a Yamaha disappeared into the gravel.

“Vale and Casey. Stay calm.”

“Not calm. Vale. And Casey.”

“Well Jorge’s definitely going to win this now-“

“I don’t care.”

“Wh-“

“No, I mean, until they get up I don’t care.” I kept my eyes on the screen and took a deep breath, slightly limping _Satu Hati_ visible in the dust, and no Italian yet. _God please please please please please…_ “If they cut the camera feed…”

“They won’t. It wasn’t that bad. Promise. He’s probably just winded or broken something.”

“Broken something.”

“Like a finger or wrist. Nothing major.”

“Then why is he still on the floor?”

“Because he hit it at over 100mph and it takes a while to get up sometimes.”

“Don’t-“

“See?”

_Fuck._ I gritted my teeth and looked up at the ceiling, Vale now on his feet and moving ok, Jorge still on the bike and ahead, Casey still looking ok, dust still swirling but settling, and then hung my head and rubbed my hands over my face as the relief hit me like a wall, before daring to look back at the screen to watch the last couple of laps, emotions suddenly going back to the opposite as Jorge crossed the line, then back again, then back again, until I was just about able to hold it together and look back at the frowning Englishman on the sofa next to me. “Sorry. It’s kind of panicking when-“

“I can imagine.”

“Whose fault would you say that was?”

“Me? Vale, to be honest.”

“OK, good. Me too.”

“Good?”

“It’s Misano. Casey can definitely do without any extra yellow-hatred.”

“Ha, true. You alright?”

“No.”

“It’s ok you know, things like that are scary-“

“I know.” I looked back at the TV, Jorge now in Parc Fermé and winking at the camera, and took a few more breaths. “It’s complicated.”

“Still a bit in love with Vale?”

“No.”

“Still a lot in love with Vale?”

“No.” I winced as he made it out onto the podium on the TV, Dani and Alvaro there first, and the noise immediately descended into booing, the likes of which I’d never heard. “Fucking hell…”

“Just ignore-“

“Wine please.”

“Not sure-“

“I’m very sure.” I kept my eyes on the face on the TV, Spanish national anthem starting, Jorge patting his hair down and generally messing with it, eyes trained on his crew, obviously to focus on something positive away from the cacophony of hell, and gritted my teeth. _Fuck. Please please just keep smiling._ “Please.”

“Right, ok. You didn’t take any painkillers-“

“No.”

“Right, ok.”

I watched him go, and watched Dani and Alvaro do their best to ignore the booing, champagne fight a bit muted but good enough, before ending up with a glass of red wine in my hand and knocking the first one back, Alvaro explaining his amazing race, Dani explaining his ok race as always, and then Jorge beaming and explaining his amazing race, including another little wink that I knew was for me, before I gritted my teeth again at the next question and answer. _“I think I’ll just say I won the race by 5 seconds, and I’d like to dedicate it to my fiancé. Booing isn’t nice, but I think I won anyway.”_

“Hello?”

“What?”

“I said I’m going to the bathroom, do you want me to bring anything from the kitchen on my way back?”

“Oh, no. Thanks.” I watched him go, looked back at the screen, Nick now going through the booing, and gritted my teeth. _Fuck you._ I listened out to check he was still gone, closed my eyes for a second in preparation, and then pushed myself up onto my feet, teeth still gritted, _Shanghai 2008, Shanghai 2008_ mantra almost making it seem do-able without swearing, before grabbing my jacket and just about making it outside onto the terrace, with, as it turned out, a lot of swearing, and pain enough to almost make the world swim in front of my eyes.

And then I opened twitter again, took another sip of wine, pulled out the packet of emergency cigarettes, and started to smoke and cry my way through the endless sarcasm, speculation and pure offense, until I was leaning on the shoulder of the 90s boyband member currently playing nurse who at some point figured out where I’d gone, sobbing like I was in a black and white war movie, too far down the road already to really care about the state of my face, life, or reputation.

“Scott?”

“Yeah?”

“You shouldn’t sit so close to me when I’m smoking.” I lit another, taking a long drag and blowing the smoke away from us, before losing the cigarette as he grabbed it and put it in his mouth, taking his own drag and raising his eyebrows.

“I don’t give a shit. Talk to me, _bonita._ Don’t think there’s much I can say and I’m not sure I understand but if you want to talk about it, feel free. Right?”

And I did. After a while.


	30. Mr Writer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um...if you love MCN I'm sorry. Fictional journalist though! [in this draft.. ;)] Title - Stereophonics. Which is where the 'just enough education to perform' comes from, too.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, and everything ♥ I'm going to plead again though: PLEASE let me know what you think?? It's very weird on this because it's so quiet out there, and I would kill for any feedback of good or bad kind, it makes such a difference!
> 
> [and yes there will be more Vale and Jorge soooooon]

@jasonMCN: Turns out stealing Rossi’s girlfriend doesn’t make you popular in Italy… #boo

@OfficialCS_27: @AnaRoja ?? RT @jasonMCN: Turns out stealing Rossi’s girlfriend doesn’t make you popular in Italy… #boo

@AnaRoja: @OfficialCS_27 Thanks Casey

@AnaRoja: excuse me? RT @jasonMCN: Turns out stealing Rossi’s girlfriend doesn’t make you popular in Italy… #boo

@jasonMCN: @AnaRoja no offense meant

@AnaRoja: @jasonMCN offense taken, so…?

@jasonMCN: @AnaRoja sorry?

@AnaRoja: @jasonMCN wasn’t aware I was a commodity that could be stolen, in the 21st century women have the vote

@jasonMCN: @AnaRoja didn’t mean anything like that by it

@AnaRoja: @jasonMCN your jobs is words, you should have learnt to use the right ones by now

@AnaRoja: @jasonMCN but I guess that’s too much to ask

@jasonMCN: @AnaRoja look I’m not trying to cause anything

@AnaRoja: @jasonMCN just laughing at the expense of Jorge Lorenzo. Business as usual

@jasonMCN: @AnaRoja harsh

@AnaRoja: @jasonMCN fair

@jasonMCN: @AnaRoja is there something else I did to you at some point?

@AnaRoja: @jasonMCN just shit stirring in a situation that involves high profile people to sell more of your paper

@jasonMCN: @AnaRoja reporting the truth

@AnaRoja: @jasonMCN truth isn’t something that usually interests you so I’m impressed you tried

@AnaRoja: @jasonMCN you failed though, since you know nothing about it and neither do the people booing someone they’ve never even met

@jasonMCN: @AnaRoja well now’s your chance to explain then

@AnaRoja: @jasonMCN not up to me to explain my private life to anyone, especially not people like you

@jasonMCN: @AnaRoja then don’t blame people for filling in the obvious blanks

@AnaRoja: @jasonMCN you could have commented on the race, ie done your job

@jasonMCN: @AnaRoja I am doing my job just fine thanks

@AnaRoja: @jasonMCN sure, “just enough education to perform” 

@jasonMCN: @AnaRoja I just made a light hearted comment about current affairs in the paddock, no need to be rude

@AnaRoja: @jasonMCN no need to be rude indeed Mr Writer. It’s not very light hearted though when your fiancé got booed by thousands of people for no reason, gets his car vandalized etc, threats..

@AnaRoja: @jasonMCN and your friend @ValeYellow46 ended up in the gravel and you were very worried…

@AnaRoja: @jasonMCN and you’re getting hundreds of hate messages every single day saying the same thing, the thing that YOU are repeating now with no evidence, inciting it

@AnaRoja: @jasonMCN and you can’t really walk or do anything because you almost got run over last week and you’re in a lot of pain

@AnaRoja: @jasonMCN and the people who do care like @ReddingPower help you out and keep you sane over one of the most difficult weekends ever

@AnaRoja: @jasonMCN and then get hit with the same abuse for being a good friend. So maybe think about it next time when you think it’s funny…

@AnaRoja: @jasonMCN because it’s not funny when you’re in the middle of it. 

@jasonMCN: @AnaRoja I’m sorry I offended you, calm down

@AnaRoja: @jasonMCN I’ll leave it there, hopefully you’ll take your helmet off next time you try and apologise

*

Casey: Ouch. And wow. xx

Me: Feel like I’ll regret that tomorrow

Casey: Maybe, but all true xx

Me: Adri this is you isn’t it…

Casey: Sorry it is, he passed me the phone and I keep forgetting to not put xx haha [just texted Jorge ‘congratulations mate xxxx’ oops]

Me: Haha know the feeling! Is Casey ok? [and did Jorge turn gay? :/]

Casey: Yeah thanks, and haha no! We hope you are?

Me: I feel better now thanks, see what happens. Don’t know what Jorge and Vale will think about that…Scott is making kind of ‘eek’ noises at me

Casey: Casey says sorry he thought you had to see it 

Me: I’m glad I did and thank you, and I’m going to carry on crying into Scott’s shoulder now and wait for more shit things to be said about me. :/ ♥

Casey: Aww don’t worry, and if you want some peace you can always come and stay with us in winter, miles from hassle xxx

Me: Thank you, thank you thank you thank you xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx [share them out to Casey and Ally too ;) ♥ ]

Casey: :D xx [go back on twitter, it might make you smile a bit]

*

@NickyHayden: Not cool, keep it on the track RT @jasonMCN: Turns out stealing Rossi’s girlfriend doesn’t make you popular in Italy… #boo

@ReddingPower: RT @AnaRoja: @jasonMCN and the people who do care like @ReddingPower help you out and keep you sane over one of the most difficult weekends ever

@ReddingPower: RT @AnaRoja: @jasonMCN and then get hit with the same abuse for being a good friend. So maybe think about it next time when you think it’s funny…

@ReddingPower: RT @AnaRoja: @jasonMCN because it’s not funny when you’re in the middle of it.

@CalCrutchlow: There was a race on today mate, did you watch it? Twat RT @jasonMCN: Turns out stealing Rossi’s girlfriend doesn’t make you popular in Italy… #boo

@PolEspargaro: Boo you RT @jasonMCN: Turns out stealing Rossi’s girlfriend doesn’t make you popular in Italy… #boo

@OfficialCS_27: RT @AnaRoja: @jasonMCN I’ll leave it there, hopefully you’ll take your helmet off next time you try and apologise

@lorenzo99: Everybody asking me, @AnaRoja speaks for herself. But yes, I agree with her.

@lorenzo99: Private lives are private. I hope @ValeYellow46 is ok after his crash.

*

“Seriously?”

“Seriously. So that’s why it’s even more annoying and frustrating and why I’m quite this much of a mess-“

“Stop apologizing, for fuck’s sake.”

“Sorry…”

“Ana, I will kick your ass.”

“A car already did so pfff.”

“Ok well…I’m going to fetch the bottle, and a blanket, and we’re going to sit here and wait for the man of the house to fly back in. Right?”

“Right.”

“Good. Deep breath.”

“I’m just worried because he’s not said anything.”

“Yeah he has, he-“

“No, not him. _Him._ Maybe I overestimated everything and shouldn’t have tagged him in it.”

“I dunno, to be honest I’ve got no idea about him or you or anything so I guess just give it a bit longer. Did you find out if he was alright?”

“Yeah texted him, official news says fine but he’s not replied yet.”

“Right well I’m sure he will.”

_You say it like it’s not the most important fucking moment of all time._ “I guess we’ll see.”

And it got to 6pm, then 7, then 8, before finally we were out of smokes, my make up was kind of repaired, and the wine was gone.

And.

Vale: I’m ok. Thanks :) 

Vale: I took my helmet off to apologise… ;)

Me: Was very worried ♥

Me: Sorry about the twitter

Vale: I enjoyed it ;)

*

@ValeYellow46: Hi everybody, thank you for the messages, I am ok :)

*

@AnaRoja: @jasonMCN and your friend @ValeYellow46 ended up in the gravel and you were very worried…

_Favorited by Valentino Rossi._

*

@ValeYellow46: All ok :) was a great win for you, congratulations! RT @lorenzo99: Private lives are private. I hope @ValeYellow46 is ok after his crash.

*

@ValeYellow46: DM @jasonMCN if you mention her again you’re blacklisted for interviews etc etc. Ok? Ciao.


	31. Extenuating Circumstances

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone anyone please tell me what you think?! ♥

“I just feel really helpless.” I sniffed again and took the bottle from him, aware this was definitely not the kind of reaction that would be in any way helpful, but finally drowning slightly in cringe at the public nature of the rebuff and the general situation and state of me. “I just can’t do anything because some people will always make him the devil. If Vale spoke from the podium at Mugello about how he’d decided Jorge was his best friend and was the kindest man in the world it still wouldn’t make a fucking difference.”

“I can imagine.”

“He’s polarising. I get that. I kind of like it, a bit. Like he does. If people have an opinion at least you have a personality. But this is different; it’s just a fucking witch hunt. And I’m trying, I’m trying _so hard_ to not let it get to us but I know it is doing. I can feel it. The difference between that first night where it was just so…easy. And I don’t mean _that_ kind.” I allowed myself a teary smirk and swallowed slightly at the smirky but very definitely genuinely understanding face looking back at me. _I’m really glad it’s you here, somehow. You or Nicky. Or him._ “It was just…I was so excited.” I bit my lip as I felt it wobble. “I was so excited because I got everything I ever wanted put on a plate in front of me. But it’s never free, is it? It’s never free and you say ‘yeah I know, I’ll pay whatever I have to’ – and I will – but the reality is painful. Mainly because I love him for who he is and who he is is the opposite person to what they all think and I can’t prove it to them. I can’t show them the hours and hours of conversation when he never crossed that line _once_. He was ‘just’ a friend, in everything except how we obviously felt about each other. And I just don’t know how to…” _Come on._ “I don’t know how to make it better because I don’t know if you can tell because he’s putting on a brave face because…b-because I-I got h-hit by a c-car but it’s killing him. And it’s my fault. And all I do-“

“Hey, no. Come on, it’s not your fault.”

“I know I didn’t do anything on purpose but I know how I looked at him across the room in Jerez and how he looked back and I know what the tiny voice in the back of my mind knew, completely _knew_ when I said ‘oh sure Vale I’ll play your girlfriend’. And I didn’t listen to it and here we are.”

“Right, but would he really want that? Because then you wouldn’t be here.”

“I feel like maybe we would. He, er…he sent me a message. To the office. Along with that painting or whatever he did for the auction. And I replied as professionally as possible and tried to ignore it. But I did that because of Vale. And I wouldn’t have. I would have expected to have my heart broken, but I wouldn’t have almost ignored it. And then maybe we’d be in the same situation but he wouldn’t be the devil and I wouldn’t be a whore.”

“Hey, come on.” 

“That’s what they’re saying. I don’t even know if they’re wrong.”

“How many people have you cheated on?”

“Ever?”

“Yeah.”

“One.”

“Not Valentino.”

“No, the bastard who cheated on me when I was 18.”

“So you’re not a whore. Now I’m not so sure about Jorge being the devil…”

“Pff.” I let myself smile again and poke him slightly, taking a few deep breaths and nodding. “No, I know I’m being melodramatic. I know I am. Sat in this house that’s completely spectacular, waiting for my multi-millionaire, attractive, intelligent, talented fiancé to get back from his exotic job. I know I have nothing to complain about in so many ways because when we close the door we still have all that. The stuff that people literally kill for.”

“It’s not that simple though is it?”

“No. It’s not. I just…this is the last thing I wanted. I didn’t want to be another problem.”

“Another problem?”

“Another PR problem. Another person for his dad to decide was poison. Another person he lies awake worrying about, because he does. He hides it really well but I came downstairs the other night before I got hit and he was sat in that chair staring at the pool…” _I have to, have to stop crying._ “He was sat in that chair and I thought it was going to be something about me or us or everything, but he…he was just sat there and he said he couldn’t sleep because he was worried about Ricky’s contract. And I don’t know why but that breaks my heart all over again b-because-“

“No, I can see why.” He put his arm round my shoulders and pulled me in, gentle enough squeeze to not be painful. “I’m starting to understand why.”

“Ok, well…I can’t add to that. But I can’t just make myself a nothing in the relationship. I went to Tavullia. To try and sort it out, and I did, at least a bit, but…Jorge went crazy. I don’t mean mad, really, he was just completely convinced that I’d gone forever, gone ‘back’. The paranoia is insane. And it would have helped if I hadn’t gone. But then what am I? Just doing things to clear up everyone’s mess.”

“Eh?”

“People who’ve fucked him over before. I understand. I understand every little issue and reaction but it can’t be my responsibility and I couldn’t just say ‘yeah ok, you’re paranoid so I won’t.’ He has to trust me. He trusts me with money, and he trusts me with secrets. But we’re still a bit…I don’t know. Like you being here…he knows, he really knows it’s nothing to worry about because he knows I love him and he knows I would never cheat. But then he sees you with your cheeky smile and James Hunt-ness and that sense just leaves. It comes back, I think, but I can’t live my life waiting for it to come and go.”

“James Hunt.”

“God, Scott. Everything has to be about you.”

“Haha. Ok, so sense of humour is a good sign, right?”

“I know I’m whining and I’m really sorry.”

“I don’t think you’re whining. I think you’re explaining pretty well, and I think you’re in a lot of pain and the person you love just got booed by thousands of people. And I think I shouldn’t have let you have wine and cigarettes.”

“I’m a really unhealthy pet.”

“Haha. You are! But you’re a good person, and please don’t doubt that. And maybe, if I absolutely have to admit it, he’s not too bad either. BUT, and I mean BUT, if that turns out to not be true you’re going to run away with me, yeah?”

“Yeah course. Nicky first though.”

“Is it the age?”

“Voice.”

“Right, well…” He sideways smiled at me again and gave me a little shrug. “I can tryyy an’ make it a bit more drawwwwl, y’all…”

“Oh God that’s terrible!” 

“Pff! It’s amazing!”

“Pffff is right. Pffff.”

“Pffff.”

“Pffff.”

“Pffff. Don’t!”

I made my eyes as wide and innocent as possible and pursed my lips. “Never…”

“Ok. But seriously, I just think that it’s hard. It’s hard for you, and it’s hard for him. But if it’s worth it then it’s worth it, because eventually it’ll go back to being easy again.”

“I know. I just need that to be now.”

“I know the feeling.”

“Scott?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re really helping. Not sarcastic.”

“I know, and I’m really glad. And…” He trailed off and narrowed his eyes slightly as I lit another cigarette and poured another glass. “Another one?”

“He’s not home for another little bit and I need my Hank Moody breakdown.”

“What?”

“Californication. It’s a great TV show that I have time to watch because my life is sitting alone at home waiting for anonymous hatred to come through the door.”

“Ana…”

“Sorry.”

“Stop apologising.”

“Sorry.”

“Ana…”

“Sorry.”

“I will throw you in the pool…”

“That’s a threat I’ve lived through before. And also water is ok, it doesn’t hurt too much.”

“Oh?”

“Er…yeah…hot tub…instead of shower…”

“Stop stop stop please stop.”

“Ok, ok. Sorry.” _Shit._ “Sorry!”

“Right, that’s it.”

“You can’t do anything to me, I’m injured!”

“I can’t no, but I can save it for later when you’re healthy and I get to do something terrible to you for free.”

“Pfff.”

“Pfff.”

“Stop!” I turned and grinned again, guiltily blowing the smoke away from us and looking at him for a minute, very close but in no way meaning more than what it did – one person leaning on another person – and took a deep breath. “I’m really worried that I’m going to lose him because he’s not going to lose this, ever.”

“This?”

“The baggage from this. It’s never going to fully go away. And if I’m not there it’s just for nothing.”

“Why wouldn’t you be there?”

“If he can’t be less paranoid. Long term. If I don’t stop being this pathetic version of myself that I don’t recognise that he will fall out of love with, sooner or later.”

“Ifs don’t mean much.”

“I know. I know. I just feel really, really close to the edge this weekend and I’m not sure why, and it’s terrifying because I have _nothing else._ ”

“I don’t think-“

“I’m going to be honest, ok?”

“I think by now that’s ok.”

“Ok.” _True._ “You always dreamt about being a motorbike rider?”

“Yeah.”

“I always dreamt about this. And I tried really hard to find something that had a really hardcore feminist ambition behind it. I tried to make my career something really important. I tried to pretend over and over that ‘this job’ was going to be the thing that was my calling or whatever. But honestly, I don’t have one. Well, no, maybe I do. But it’s probably not what I wanted to think it was. It’s just…having a family. And that’s why I’m so terrified of it and why I freak out almost every time he mentions it. Because, for a start, mine is a fuck up and I'm scared of repeating it. But it’s so close but it’s so threatened and I don’t know what I do if it doesn’t work.”

“It doesn’t have to be threatened.”

“Maybe not, but it feels like it. I’m meant to be this person and that’s why I’m so frustrated. That’s it. I’m frustrated because I’m supposed to be there for him and being what I know he needs – and he does that for me too, but I can’t because there’s all this bullshit in the way. And I hate how I can’t just say that.”

“Say what?”

“That my dream is really simple and old skool and I just want to marry him and raise incredible kids.”

“You can say that.”

“But can I say that and have it respected?”

“Well you can from me.”

“I know, that’s why I did.”

“Did you tell him this?”

“Kind of.”

“Kind of…”

“Well we did talk about kids, a bit…”

“But?”

“But I didn’t really explain why I was so terrified. The parents stuff, yeah. But...I don't know.”

“And you want 100% trust.”

“Yes.”

“Then I think you have to give it, as well.”

“I know. And shut the fuck up now, you’re too young and stupid to have any useful advice whatsoever.”

“Pfff.”

I looked out across the water and smiled, everything seeming a bit brighter or less overwhelming somehow, and nodded to myself. “I really, really need to go to bed now.”

“He did say don’t wait up.”

“I know. I think glass 99 of wine and too many cigarettes is enough for my Hollywood breakdown. Maybe more tomorrow.”

“Good plan, until tomorrow when I’d recommend not doing it again.”

“Jaja I know. I know I’m sat here in the worst possible representation of what I just said.”

“Eh?”

“I just want to raise kids with my pro-athlete husband! Two minutes later: fuck this, I need wine and cigarettes!”

“Ah. Haha, well…I think there’s good reasons.”

“I thought you were going to impress me with words like _extenuating circumstances_.”

“Be realistic.”

“Truth.” I grinned at him again and nodded as he untangled himself and got up, just about getting me on my feet without too much grimacing, before we were making the long trek to the bedroom and I was unceremoniously but, to be fair, accidentally, dumped face first in the sheets. “Ow.”

“Sorry.”

I rolled over and grimaced again. “Shit aim. I hope you do better in your en suite toilet.”

“Haha, I DO.”

“Good.”

“Night, then. Shall I leave the light on?”

“Are you tired?”

“Not really.”

“Can you…” _Cringe._ “Um, could you maybe stay a bit longer until-“

“Yeah, I can.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem.”

And it was awkward for a few minutes, until we were finally talking about something bullshitty and pointless, maybe, somehow, Rihanna’s hair, which he seemed too interested in, before I was vaguely aware I was clinging on again and taking in big gulps of Scott Redding chest as I breathed in, too tired and pathetic to really care and move, sensing the countdown of Jorge coming back and appreciating the distraction and actually feeling like it might be ok, before I obviously nodded off, and woke up to civil war.

_“What the fuck is this?”_

_“Relax. She fell asleep.”_

_“You’d better fucking explain.”_

_“Seriously, after the conversation we’ve had tonight-“_

_“Just get out.”_

_“You should seriously listen to me, mate, before you go assuming stupid-“_

_“Ok, MATE. I asked nicely-“_


	32. Thinking Out Loud

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is Ed Sheeran. That song is following me around :/ ;) 
> 
> I hope you like it ♥

_Oh God._ I struggled to half sitting up, Jorge now in the doorway and Scott just off the bed on his feet walking towards him, both with nostrils flared and aggressive body language making me tense and consequently, wince. 

“Get the fuck out of here, now. I mean it-“

“Get out the room.”

“Excuse me?!”

“Get out in the hall and fucking listen to me for a minute.”

“I think you’ve forgotten where you are-”

“Spare me the irony and stop being a dick.” 

Scott was now right in front of him, my protestations not answered by either of them, both squaring off and glaring, both looking more likely to hit each other than listen to me. “Guys-“

“I told you once, get out of my house-“

“Right, that’s it.” 

Scott’s a big guy. Jorge is a fairly big guy if you’re me or Dani Pedrosa, but Scott is definitely a big guy. And he was now pushing my fiancé out of my bedroom by force and, I imagined from the noise, pinning him against the wall in the hallway, voices both dropping but still audible.

_“Now, you fucking listen-“_

_“Get off me or you’re going to seriously regret it.”_

_“Look, I know you don’t like me. Fine. I know you don’t trust anyone. Fine. But you can trust her-“_

_“You really think-“_

_“I said fucking LISTEN to me.”_

There was a seething silence in which, again guessing from the noise, I think they ended up stood seething silently in the hallway, at least no one now physically accosted.

_“That woman in there loves you a lot, ok? And you’re the only thing fucking it up, not me.”_

_“I’m not listening to this from you-“_

_“Like you’ve not been listening to her either right? Yeah. She’s been talking to me. About you. And her. About how it’s killing her to see you trying to put on a brave face. About how she loves you. About how all she wants is you. All about Jorge Lorenzo, the center of her world, except for this one problem where he turns into a jealous, paranoid prick.”_

_“Fuck off.”_

_“Don’t worry, I will. Am I going to do it with a black eye and a passenger, or are you going to calm the fuck down and deal with yourself? Because I’m not leaving her with you when you’re like this.”_

_“It think it’s up to her actually-“_

_“Oh suddenly it’s up to her is it? I thought it was all up to you.”_

_“Don’t.”_

_“Yeah. I’m going to get a drink and calm down.”_

_“You’re going to calm down?!”_

_“Yeah. At least I’ve got a fucking reason to be angry.”_

I listened to the Brit stalk off down the stairs, unsure what I should be feeling or expecting next, the whole day spent waiting for a grinning face coming through the door, and then decided to just close my eyes and wait, eventually soft footsteps coming into the door and the bed dipping announcing his arrival, maybe 5 or 6 minutes waiting for it.

“Hi…”

_Hi._ I nodded to myself slightly, eyes opening to look at him and welling up, his doing the same in return as the consequence of the outburst seemed to sink in, nodding at me and looking away, sniffing, desperate little shrug in lieu of finding many words. 

“Well done on the win.”

“Don’t.”

“Not sure what else to say.”

“Yeah, I KNOW.” He shook his head, teeth gritted and long breath expelled, before he obviously read enough in my body language to dare to try it, moving closer and hand covering mine, visible sigh of relief as I didn’t move it away. “S-sorry I j-just…it’s been a long day and I panicked-“

“I know. Same.”

“Yeah I know, I’m sorry-“

“No, not like that. Don’t do that.”

“What?”

“Read between the lines when there’s nothing written there. I know you’ve had a long day. I’ve had a long day too.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t do this.”

“What?”

“Forget who I am because you’re scared.”

“I am scared.”

“I’m scared too.”

“Of me?”

“Not of you. I’m scared about you sometimes.”

“Same.”

“I know.”

“I know you do and I know that I just broke something-“

“No.”

“No?”

“Not broken. It really hurts. But not broken.”

“But-“

“Yeah, you did. You’re now calmly talking to me. And you did better than before.”

“Not good enough.”

“Nope, it’s not. Not for me. Certainly not for kids.”

“God, Ana please don’t-“

“No, I just mean we have some way to go.”

“This isn’t my last chance-“

“No. Because you’re sat here talking to me right now. And that’s progress.”

“Oh.”

“I’m not sure you would have been if Scott hadn’t kind of bullied you but I can’t be bothered right now.”

“Wh-“

“Did you bring the cava like you said-“

“Yeah.”

“Then can you go and apologise to Scott and tell him he’s Jesus, and then bring the champagne and yourself back here please.”

“Apologise-“

“Apologise to him or I’m going to leave with him tonight.” I nodded at the sharp intake of breath and shrugged slightly, wincing through it and trying to not show it, aware my voice was flat and everything a bit sharp, and aware it was that or even more mess. “As a friend. But I mean it.”

“Ok.”

“Do you not think that’s fair?”

“Yes.” Another breath. “Yes that’s fair. Ok.”

I watched him turn and get up and go back over to the door, hand suddenly cold now he was gone, and swallowed it down slightly to try and make my voice steadier, everything eventually coming out as the opposite. “Jorge?”

“Yeah?”

“Be really quick, ok?” I bit my lip and felt one go with the blink, look on his face making it a thousand times worse, before shaking my head and pointing at the door. “It’s not just that and I really really need you to be here, ok?”

“Ok.”

_And you’re back to that psychic rock of perfection that I probably couldn’t live without anymore even if I tried._ “Th-thanks.”

*

It took 10 minutes, I imagined because Scott would have dragged the maximum out the opportunity to rub in how much of a dick he’d been, but eventually he was back in the doorway with an almost empty bottle of Freixenet from the Misano podium, light turned off on the way in and lamp replacing it, jacket off and shoes off, lying down next to me without a word and balancing the bottle on the bedside table before turning back to me and threading our fingers together, squeezing my hand slightly and not even trying to look me in the eye, until I squeezed back and pulled his hand towards me, finally getting eye contact and gently pulling me in, lips in my hair and teeth gritted as I felt my fingertips dig in and shoulders start to shake slightly. “God, Ana I’m sorry I’m so-“

“Don’t.”

“Please just let me-“

“No, I can’t be bothered.” I listened to the words muffled in his chest, hoping they were audible and seemingly they were.

“But-“

“You fucked up but I don’t care right now, ok?”

“Ok…”

“There has to be progress but mistakes are ok.”

“Ok…”

“God, I sound like you.” I managed to sniff and laugh slightly, the kind that releases some of the pressure in situations like these, and then nodded against his chest again after a kiss to the forehead, voices both low and everything suddenly calmish and quiet. “Today was so hard.”

“I know.”

“And I’m so proud of you and I’m so sorry they did that-“

“What?”

“Booed.”

“Oh. Yeah, well…I won. So it could have been worse.”

“It could.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Shit.”

“Physically?”

“Yeah. It hurts. And my leg is itchy.”

“Ah.”

“Yeah.”

“Winner’s champagne?”

“Yeah, ok.” I opened my eyes and managed a slight smile as the bottle was gently tipped to my lips, the dregs in the bottom of the bottle shared between us and everything getting a bit better as it was, eyes locked together and healing a bit, before I half collapsed into the sheets, holding myself up to drink too much effort and groaning. “Urgghhh why does the world want to kill me.”

“It’s always the best ones.”

“Hmm?” I cracked one eye open and then lolled my head to the side to watch as he took his shirt off, that fact not lost on him and a tiny hint of smirk in recognition of it. 

“The best people, always tested and thrown around. Like the world has to prove you mean it.”

“Oh really? Like who?”

“Well…you. Jesus. Senna. Rafael Nadal maybe. My mother. Refugees. The kids I at Sant Joan de Deu-”

“Wow that’s quite a list.” I grinned at him, blown away slightly but also amused, kind of the same thing that I felt most of the time but in a bigger dose, and smiled again at the knowing little smirk in return.

“Yup. Only the cool people get the bad stuff.”

“I think you forgot someone.”

“Michael Jordan doesn’t-“

“No, idiot. Think it through.”

“Ah.” He shook his head and smiled slightly sadly from the end of the bed, now just in boxers and, evidently, about to remove my clothes next. “Nope. Especially not right now.”

“Hmmm…well…” I narrowed my eyes and tried to help him help me out of my jogging bottoms as best possible before being gently pulled up to a sitting position and wincing through the removal of my t shirt, then finally underwear, shivering slightly as his finger traced some of the bruises and eyes met mine again.

“Looking a bit better.”

“Hmm.”

“Definitely different to how it was on Thursday.”

“To be honest I haven’t looked-“

“I know. That’s why I’m telling you. So you don’t have to.”

“Ok. And you’re not trying to-“

“No. It’s better than Thursday.”

“Ok.” _Ok._ “Good. Now can you stop staring at my battered-“

“Beautiful from top to bottom.”

“Flattery won’t save you from a morning of emotional therapy tomorrow.”

“I know.” Lamp now off, body heat now shared, into that zone where it feels like there’s no one else in the world, eyes just about able to find each other in the dark. “I need it.”

“I need you to need it.”

“I know. And I’m going to say it once now, then I’ll leave it. But I’m very, very sorry.”

“Ok. And you promise you apologised to Scott-“

“Yes. I promise.”

“Because for all I know you killed him and put him in the freezer…”

“Jeje, no. Promise, no murder.”

“Good.”

“Ana?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m trying.”

“I know. Me too.”

“You too?”

“Trying to convince myself I’m not ruining your life.”

“Christ, don’t be stupid.”

“I know you love me but-“

“No buts. No buts at all, I promise. I’d do it every single time exactly the same.”

“Promise-“

“I promise. I promise you absolutely, ok?” 

“It’s hard to believe that when you’re listening to thousands of people boo you-“

“Yeah well…it’s easy to ignore thousands of people booing you when you have this to come back to-“

“No it’s not.”

“Hmm?”

“Don’t tell me it’s easy.”

“I’m just trying to-“

“I know, but don’t. Just be honest.”

“Ok then. Being honest, I’d do it all again the same way. Being honest, the hardest thing isn’t listening to them boo, it’s not being able to reply.”

“Ok.”

“You want to be honest now?”

“What do you mean?”

“Scott says you figured out what you want to do in life, the big ambition. What is it? Can I help?”

_You bastard. In the best way._ “Oh, did he.”

“He did. So did you?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“Right..”

“And you can definitely help, although it’s going to be expensive.”

“It’s ours, so money doesn’t count as help.”

“You’ll have to be willing to get your hands dirty…”

“Right…”

_I can hear you frowning._ I smiled in return and leant across the small distance to find a kiss. “And it’s going to be really hard work if you’re going to do it properly. But it’s going to be a lot of fun starting out.”

“Starting out?”

“Yeah. Creating the opportunity…”

“Ok seriously, just tell me-“

“Baby Lorenzos, you idiot. Family. Ok?”

“Oh.” I waited for that to sink in and then smiled into the kiss, finding it surprisingly salty and the quiet voice coming back to me surprisingly shaky, both of us suddenly seeming 4 miles closer despite having been touching almost top to toe already, everything somewhere between bliss and desperation. “Oh. Well…”

“Happy?”

“I can’t explain.”

“I know, but you don’t have to.” 

“C-can I just ask you something now, please?”

“Anything.”

“I’m going to do my best. I’m going to do everything to make sure I never do what I did tonight ever again. I’m going to be the person you should have. Ok?”

“Ok. That’s not a question though.”

“No, this is the question. If I fail sometimes and I fuck up, can you just remember that I love you?”

“Jorge always-“

“No, listen to me. If you’re caught wondering if I’m worth it and you’re ever thinking ‘can I just give this extra 1% one more time’ just please, please…” He trailed off and rested his forehead on mine on the pillow, fingers tracing gently down my back and breath slightly ragged. “Please please don’t drop me because I seriously-”

“I won’t.”

“You know if I can’t fix it with you I’m never going to manage it-“

“Hey, no. Don’t talk like that-“

“No, you’re my last chance. And I’m not-“

“Last chance?! Have you been engaged before?”

“I don’t mean it like that. I mean that nothing, ever, ever, is going to get close to this and how I feel about you. So if I can’t do it with you-“

“You know I think…” I pressed my lips against his ear and let my fingers run through his hair, ending with a kiss on the end of his nose. “…you can even do it without me. So with me, I think we’ll manage. Ok?”

“I mean it.”

“So do I.”

“Also we’re engaged, I almost forgot-“

“Pfff, _thanks_.”

“God woman let me finish…”

“Oh I see, that’s where it’s going is it?!”

“Yeah pretty much given you seem to just finish my sentences in your head and-”

“Well seems silly to w-“

“Waste time when-“

“I already-“

“..know..”

“..what..”

“..you’re..”

“..going..”

“..to..”

“…complain.”

“Pfff-

“fffffff.”

I waited for the equally inevitable little low chuckle and peck on the lips before snuggling down into his chest and feeling us both cling on a bit, physically painful but not too bad and definitely better than Thursday, feeling like maybe if I wished for it hard enough I could just stay there forever, eyes closed and door closed, finally some peace, hard earnt maybe. 

“Good…“

I smiled and gave him a slight squeeze, nodding into his chest; that finally seeming to make us both relax and underlining the conversation. “…night.”


	33. Accidental Honesty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you like it? ♥ 
> 
> Now off to fluff town: population this story... ;) :D thank you!

Breakfast the next morning had been the most awkward thing in the world, Scott not actually having left and obviously some sort of genuine alliance reached in that 10 minutes of Jorge’s absence the night before, me constantly trying to figure out the dynamic and both similarly slightly lost, Scott finding it hard to remember that Jorge was back, and therefore when I needed or wanted things, it wasn’t him anymore who did or fetched them, starting with my arrival to the kitchen like I was being carried over the threshold, ridiculously overbearingly affectionate and caring Jorge back again after the first few days I’d moved in there, when it had been enough to make me almost want to kill him by Day 2. This time I didn’t, though, because I was actually in need of that. What felt like smothering when you can walk felt like salvation when moving around hurt. Scott had been very helpful and very kind, but I was also aware of every single thing I asked or needed and felt guilty with every one. With Jorge, it felt more like he’d signed up for this long term; and the debt was still more in my favour. By Monday evening, when we were alone again and he’d even managed to cook nice food without killing everyone [neighbours within a 5 mile radius included], everything was better and I finally felt like I was actually going to end up healed at some point, minor painkillers taken instead of wine, candles lit for me, film on the TV and popcorn nestled in his crotch, which once the bag was empty was too tempting to not use as an excuse to tease, leaving us in the pool shivering slightly, less gravity for me to fight and less pain, everything about the day making me relax so completely I ended up just grabbed onto him hanging on for a while, listening to a story about him and Laura when he’d been a kid, the little laughs rippling out across the water until we were eye to eye and he was kissing the middle of my forehead and twirling us round slightly, that mist of magic starting to take over, where everything’s somehow extra special on a clear, moonlit summer night with nothing much to worry about.

“I think I’ve been really harsh.”

“Hmm?”

“I think I’ve been really harsh about the Tavullia thing, and if I have I’m sorry.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean…you have to deal with it sometime, but it should have waited a couple of extra days.”

“I’m not sure it would have made much difference.”

“Past tense…interesting…”

“Jaja.” He narrowed his eyes in a fake glare, hands giving me an invisible squeeze just under the water, before nodding and taking a deep breath. “You know I’m trying.”

“I do.”

“Good. Now speak of the devil…”

“Hmm?”

“‘I do.’ Have you thought about when you want to get married?”

“Argghhh!!!!” I grinned, shaking my head and closing my eyes, fear slightly real but also getting less and less every day since I’d been looking at a ring already on my finger, before opening them again to see one eyebrow raised and an amused but pouting Lorenzo. 

“Does it really scare you-“

“Yup. SO much. But…”

“But…?”

“But…I have been thinking about it. Can it be small?”

“How small?”

“Um…there’s about another 6 people I actually want there, not counting people you already know…”

“Who do I already know?”

“Scott. Nicky. Casey and Adri…those kinds of people. And…”

“Don’t say it…”

“I’m going to tell him he can come if he wants but it would probably be better if he didn’t.”

“Ok…”

“Ok?!”

“Yes, ok. It’s not so hard for me to marry you in front of him, is it?”

“Hmm yeah definitely worse the other way round.”

“Parents?”

“If they must.”

“Ok. Same. Small sounds good to me.”

“I don’t want it to be a big deal. Well…it will be the biggest deal _ever_ , but not because there’s 180 truffle risottos in a tent or anything. Ok?”

“Sounds perfect. Any idea when, then?”

“January?” I watched his eyes light up in the absence of 2020 or 2050 or _no I’ve not thought about it_ , and dived in for a kiss, wincing slightly but well worth it. “I think that means yes?”

“YES.”

“Ok GOOD. But you’re going to have to meet my parents.”

“Yeah, same…seems a bit crazy you haven’t.”

“I know exactly what you mean. And please please can I meet your mother first…”

“Jaja YES. I think that’s a good idea.”

“Ok, good. When?”

“We could do next weekend? Assuming-“

“Perfect. And announce January?”

“First week in January.” I nodded and gave him a squeeze at the little spark of blissful disbelief. “…somewhere small…like maybe…just…here?” _Please..?_

“Here?”

“I love this house and it’s where so much happened...”

“Hmm…”

“Jaja ok so that’s a no…”

“Never a no for you.” He smiled and widened his eyes slightly. “But…”

“But…”

“Actually, no. That would be kind of great. I was going to say I have bad memories here too…but then I think maybe the ultimate way to get rid of them would be to marry you here.”

“Bad memories?”

“Lots and lots of nights…” He leant in and let his lips brush mine slightly as the words came out, slower and softer than the rest of the conversation, which had somehow sounded almost normal despite my internal maelstrom. “Sat here either on my own or with someone who wasn’t you…wondering if ever…it would be you.”

“Oh.” _Wow._

“And lots and lots of hours too recently thinking about those lots and lots of nights and thinking I’d thrown it all away.”

“Never.”

“Almost.”

“It didn’t get that close.”

“You said-“

“And I mean every word. But I said it because I know you’ll listen, eventually, and understand. Because you have to know I’m serious…” I pulled his bottom lip slightly with my teeth and then locked eyes with him again. “But you also have to know that the only thing that’s going to make me walk out on you is if I turn out to be wrong.”

“Wrong…”

“About who you are. If I’m wrong, I’ll go. As long as I’m right, I will drag you kicking and screaming back to the land of common sense _every single time._ ”

“I hope that’s true.”

“That’s what I promise. Ok? More than all the vows that go without saying when you feel like this, that’s what I promise. What do you promise?”

“I promise I’ll do my best to keep up so you don’t have to drag me.”

“Not bad but usually you’re more of a pace setter…”

“Well…” He let a little smile cross his face before leaning in to press his lips against my ear. “I try.”

“Good.” I smiled into the crook of his neck as his lips wandered over mine on the other side and then nodded as I felt his grip get a bit tighter. “I can tell you one thing though.”

“Hmm?”

“I’m not wrong.”

“I hope not.”

“I know not.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“And I can’t wait to marry you.”

“Same, mostly…”

“I’m going to ignore that, this once.” He grinned and moved away again so we could look at each other, slowly moving us around so his back was against the edge of the pool and there was less chance of me bruising myself on it, both of us knowing where this was headed. “Because I’m not sure if you realised what you said before…?”

“Ah, fuck. The vows thing…that was accidental honesty…”

“Jaja. Well accidental or not, if marriage vows go without saying, you really don’t need to be scared.”

“You neither.”

“Good.”

“Was a pleasure doing business with you, Sir...”

“Same.”

“Cool, I’ll be off then…”

“Absolutely no way.” He grinned into the kiss as I did, sloppy and messy as a result, and I dug my fingertips into his back as one hand went between my legs. “Not letting you go.”

“Cheesy…” I tried to add more wit before giving up and groaning into it, pain still there but nothing like before, and frustrations of a rollercoaster weekend slowly, finally, being put to bed, back of my brain really fucking praying Scott hadn’t forgotten anything and Ricky had found a home of his own at least for one night. _I’m not wrong. And we just set a date. Just like that._


	34. Progress

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 down, 3 to go? :) parents, that is.
> 
> Hope you like, thank you! ♥

@anaroja: Meet the parent[s] with @lorenzo99 in Mallorca!!! pic.twitter.com/ibiud

@lorenzo99: ♥ RT @anaroja: Meet the parent[s] with @lorenzo99 in Mallorca!!! pic.twitter.com/ibiud

@NickyHayden: @anaroja feeling better?

@anaroja: @NickyHayden yes thank you! I will talk to you properly in Japan! :)

@NickyHayden: @anaroja you’re coming! :) must be feeling better then! Sounds good!

*

It went well and she was absolutely overjoyed with her baby having found a baby and now planning babies, after the first wary minute, when she’d obviously seen the way he looked at me and the way I looked back, after everything was explained, and we, especially after a while of me being too fragile, were sat on each other or touching each other or just generally one of _those_ couples that’s kind of sickening. Chicho wasn’t particularly mentioned, I was in a lot better shape and just a bit slow by now rather than completely immobile, and getting a little tour of a few places that had been important to him growing up ended with us sat on the city wall staring out at the sea, darkness cover enough to get us pretty left alone, voices quiet and everything seeming a million miles from the crazy, booing yellow of the weekend, eventually walking hand in hand back to the car parked below us and driving back to the hotel in contented silence, for some reason that I was glad of, us not staying with Maria. The next morning we went for a picnic to a slightly secret beach and Laura joined us, and everything was feeling more and more like I thought it should have done from the start; no guilt or judgments and two people to spend time with who were just genuinely happy for us, and trustworthy. We told them about the date and about the plan, and I was pleasantly surprised by the lack of immediate questioning and planning; Maria just happy and nodding and listening, no need to get too involved and me very thankful for that. I didn’t want it to be a big day but I did want to have absolute control of it, or near, which Jorge was not finding easy.

By the time we got back to Barcelona on Sunday night, I was exhausted and slept the very short flight, and then the shortish journey from El Prat back home, and then almost the trip from passenger seat to bed, too, eventually carried in and gently plonked down on the bed with a badly hidden groan signifying the effort needed to carry me all that way, and I remember nothing else until breakfast the next morning, which was cereal in bed but with Lorenzo waiter service, so more than tasty enough.

Somehow, something had obviously changed or further sunk in. Maybe he was feeling more and more secure, which I’d been expecting to happen in time before realising quite how bad it was, or maybe I was just less sensitive because I was feeling better, but whatever it was, everything was back how it should have been. The weather was good, we went out in public a few times for food or shopping and to a couple of photo shoots where I sat there and spectated on the spectacular show of watching him pose; standing behind the camera for a few shots where they wanted a certain expression and made him look at me, unable to hide the sparkle and me the same, and no one had to get ravelled up in anything except the sheets.

The flight to Japan was a bit more painful, too long in one seat and leaving me stiff and a bit cranky by the time we arrived, and then, of course, the weekend started in earnest and he had actual things to do. I felt a bit lost in translation on Thursday, sat in the hotel room staring out, walking round the room occasionally to try and fight off the flight, and then he had things to do on Thursday night and I ended up alone again until there was a knock on the door and I opened it to find a posing and grinning Nicky Hayden. 

“Hello.” Another grin, followed by a very ginger hug to make sure I didn’t get crushed. “Long time no see.”

“Too long.” I gave him a squeeze, signalling I wasn’t too breakable, and then kind of hobbled back from the door and let him in, him sitting in one of the arm chairs near the window and me perched on the end of the bed. “How are you?”

“I’m very good. That’s my update done. How are you?”

I grinned at the _please tell me everything; I care and I’m a friend but also did anything juicy happen?_ face, and shrugged slightly before smiling back. “Scott was my nurse for the weekend. Him and Jorge almost killed each other. We set a date for the wedding. We went to Mallorca and I met the female members of his family. I like them and they like me. I’m really angry I’m still not healed. That’s pretty much it…”

“Almost killed each other?”

“Well, Jorge almost killed Scott for which Scott almost killed Jorge.”

“Right.”

“I fell half asleep on him – Scott - and after being booed and the whole weekend in general, it wasn’t a nice thing to come back to…”

“Hey, I’m not judging. I know you, you’re marrying him, must be something good about him somewhere…”

“Pffff. Honestly, he has this issue. I have my own, it’s just that mine are secret and quiet and he can be patient with me in private.”

“I know, I know you’re a complete freak, it’s fine.”

“Honestly this isn’t helping too much…”

“Haha. Well you know what I mean…everybody’s got something, right? But you’re ok.”

“Yeah. I’m getting good, and I’m more than ok already. He’s learning. I’m getting less terrified of commitment…all good.”

“And Vale…?”

“No idea to be honest. Other than the twitter stuff, I’ve not heard from him at all. Which is a bit weird, but I don’t really want to call him.”

“Ok…?”

“I miss him being around, but it’s not up to me how much of it he can or can’t take. Also, I’m not sure how, as the non bad-ass person involved in this, I am meant to be the one who does all the sorting out? There’s no bad feeling as far as I know, and I guess I’ll see him tomorrow.”

“You’re going to the garage?”

“Yup. Uccio’s back, I’m back, should be fun…”

He grinned again at the look on my face and made a kind of _hmmm maybe?_ face before getting up and heading for the mini bar. “Can Jorge afford to buy me a mineral water?”

“Yes thank you WE can afford that.”

“Ooh all shared?! I’m impressed.”

“Me too to be honest. I don’t know why that was so much easier than trusting me with everything else, but still…not complaining?”

“Yeah definitely don’t complain.” Another grin, follow by a glug of water, followed by another grin. “Hungry?”

“Yeah.”

“Eating alone?”

“Yeah…”

“Not anymore. Restaurant or room service?”

“You’d be seen in public with me?”

“Honestly you’re not that smashed up anymore, I think you’re pretty enough.”

I laughed at that, holding up my middle finger through a grin and tentatively getting back on my feet, before steadying myself against him and nodding. “Ok. Thank you.”

“Yeah exactly, I’m doing all y’all a great service, having dinner with good company.”

“Ok, thank you again. Genuine this time…” I smiled and nodded, locking my arm through his for a bit more support as we started to the door, and then pulled out my phone as it beeped.

Jorge: I hope you are eating alone 

Ana: Jajajaja THANKS :P

Jorge: Shit, you get what I meant? Xxxx

Ana: Yes jaja, I’m not sat here hungry and waiting, don’t worry. I will see you later. Is it ok? Xx

Jorge: Yeah surprisingly all ok so far. :) wish I was there though xxx

Ana: Me too. But luckily for you there’s someone cooler than you taking me to dinner :P xxx

Jorge: Jaja good one

Jorge: No one is cooler than me

Jorge: Unless it’s like Messi or someone

Jorge: If it is, I understand ;)

Ana: Cristiano. Sorry babe.

Jorge: Noooooooooo

Ana: Jajaja no, Nicky is here and we’re going to have dinner in the restaurant here, alone or with other people I’m not sure. Ok? Xxx

Jorge: Yes, of course. If you want to ;) don’t let him drag you.. :P xxxx

Ana: No dragging. Slight carrying. Still a bit sore. :/ xxx

Jorge: Bath tonight ;)

Ana: Jaja like I’m a pet :P

Jorge: Stop making me laugh!!

Ana: Is it that stupid giggle? :P

Jorge: Yes

Ana: Crying?

Jorge: No

Ana: Then there’s hope for you yet!! Love you. I’ll probably be either in the bar or the room when you get back, let me know when you’re on the way. Xxxxxx

Jorge: I will. I love you too. Thank God you’re here xxxx

Ana: Jaja says your mum :P

Jorge: Yeah I think she’s quite relieved tbh :P so don’t even joke

Ana: Never ;) ♥ 

Jorge: Also Scott is still being nice to me

Ana: ??? same…

Jorge: I thought it would disappear quite quickly

Ana: No. The good ones don’t disappear quickly ;) ♥

Jorge: Did you tell him about the wedding?

Ana: Who? Scott or Vale?

Jorge: Vale

Ana: Ah ‘him’ :P no not yet, not spoken in a while. Did you?

Jorge: Likely! Pff. No, not yet. We shall plan that attack later. Now I really have to go! 

Ana: You kept talking :P ok see you in a bit ♥ ciaoooo ...

Jorge: Pfffff ♥


	35. "We Are Where We Are"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much ♥ I hope you like it and please let me know? :)

“Hey.”

_So still a bit awkward sometimes then._ “Hi.”

“Babe, sit down.” I cringed slightly at the red-faced _you know me well but he doesn’t and he probably couldn’t tell I was so nervous_ expression, before leaning into a side-hug and taking a kiss on the top of the head as Nicky smirked. “Good day?”

“Not bad.”

“Good.”

“You?”

“Very good. Nicky is more fun than an empty room.”

“I’m glad.” He smiled at me before smiling back at Nicky and taking a sip of his drink. “How is she, honestly?”

The American smiled at me and then back at my fiancé. “Not too bad. Didn’t have to carry her all the way.”

“Good. Hands off.” He smiled and flashed his eyes slightly at the cheek of it, knowing Nicky probably knew and breaking the awkward a bit, before we all tensed a bit as Vale walked in, noticing us and noticing us noticing him, and then ending up stood next to me and Nicky, furthest from Jorge but understandable, and smiling down at me. 

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

“‘ow are you?”

“Much, much better.”

“Good.”

“Thanks. How are you?”

“Good.”

“Good.” I smiled as he did at the conversation so very dictated by the company, before finding another kiss planted in my hair and hand squeezing my shoulder. 

“Good. ‘Ave a good evening.” He grinned at Nicky, smiled at Jorge slightly awkwardly, if it was possible for Valentino Rossi to ever be such a thing, and then beat his retreat, both of us saying a good _ok we’ll catch up properly at some point soon but now is not the time_ before I got my knee squeezed and watched the mini battle on Jorge’s face before he got it under control, and we managed an actual conversation.

*

“Sorry.” I apologised again and steadied myself against him, chiefly, I would have liked to have said, because I was still pretty injured, but actually more due to the wine. “Sorry baby sorry sorry sorr-“ I lost the word into a quick kiss and grin before we ambled down to the room and I was bundled inside and over to the bed, some twinges but nothing like it could have been, wine helping in that case, and then finding a twinkly-eyed Yamaha rider staring down at where I was swaying, blissfully grinning, on the end of the bed. “Heyyyy there. Whatcha doin’?”

“Looking at you.” He smiled and cupped one side of my face, both sets of eyes now shimmering with that little spark of _something_ as I relaxed into it, before I felt my hair get brushed behind my ear and he ended up on one knee in front of me, now looking up at me. “Always looking at you.”

“Awww.” I grinned again, getting more and more stoned on the moment as still seemed to happen when it suddenly hit me again where I was and with who, before pointing at him and nodding. “Kneeground!”

He laughed slightly, nodding and taking my hand, before kissing the back of it and then looking at me again, fingers playing with the engagement ring. “Still sure.”

“Yes baby you don’t have to ask again.”

“I hope no one’s going to have to ask you again.”

“Nobody ever. Ever ever ever.”

“Good.”

“I am Jorge Lorenzo’s wife now and I will never escape…” I widened my eyes and watched his widen in happy amusement opposite me. “Nooooo!!”

“I can’t believe I’d never seen you drunk before you were already…you know…”

“Nope don’t know! What?”

“Everything.”

“Awwwww.” I nodded and managed to lace our fingers together without killing anyone, before ending up with my forehead leant against his, eyes closed and still grinning. “I know though. You know yeah? You know I know.”

“I know.”

“Good because honestly I think you’re doing a very good job of being all my dreams and stuff, so…works out ok I guess on the face of it.”

“Ah, ok. Cool.” I felt the giggle move us slightly and fingers start on removing my clothes, sitting up under my own steam or almost, before ending up lying in the middle of the bed, staring at the ceiling and feeling the mattress dip as he got on next to me, lying on his side, hand propping up his head and letting his fingers trace down my ribs, now nothing on me except bruises and bandages, and somehow not self conscious about that. “Ana…”

“Yes my love?”

“What if-“

“No.”

“No?”

“No what ifs. We are where we are.” The way I said that and ended up letting my head fall to the side to look at him made the increased sobriety I was feeling in my veins more apparent, something having broken the giddy spell slightly. “And I wouldn’t change a thing.”

“Good.” He leaned in, nodding and pulling me in as I managed to roll onto my side and reach him, words now filtering through my hair and a lot softer as I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths, now pleasantly floating on tipsy instead of bordering on insanity. “But that’s not what I was going to say. I was going to say, what if I said I’ve been organising an engagement-celebrating holiday for the week after Sepang…”

“Oh.”

“Oh..?”

I smiled into his chest and felt my fingertips grab on a bit tighter, nodding and letting out a little involuntary hum of approval as his fingers combed through my hair. _Oh._ “Blissful oh.”

“How much better do you feel?”

“Almost enough to have to call emergency services if you don’t start touching me soon.”

“Oooh.” 

I smiled at that and nodded again, feeling his fingers play a kind of tune down my back and making me shiver as they reached ass cheek and pulled me in further. “Yeah, so…”

“You only want to fuck me when you’re drunk.”

“Pfff.” I opened my eyes again and shuffled up slightly to meet his, little shake of the head making the ends of our noses brush slightly. “Never.”

“Ok well never is worse…”

“Jeje. Well…hmm…maybe I do like to _fuck_ you when I’m drunk. Ish. But that’s not what we do when I’m not drunk, is it?”

“Maybe not…”

“Definitely not. But take off your jeans.”

He smiled at the smile, slight eyebrow raised, before leaving a kiss in the middle of my forehead and nodding, ending up back there now naked and letting me set the pace as I pinned him down and let my hair fall down towards him. “Better…”

“Ana?”

_No no no you noticed._ “I know. Ignore it.”

“I’m not going to-“

“Ignore it. It’s fine, I’ll change it after.”

“No.”

“No?”

“No. We’ll change it now.” 

I tried to complain before finding myself being carried off to the bathroom and gently set down on the closed toilet seat, him crouching down and inspecting my leg, which was slowly or quickly turning red. “I said leave it.”

“Bad idea.”

“But up to me.”

“There’s no rush is there?”

_Isn’t there?_ “You need sleep.”

“I do need sleep.” He looked back up at me and nodded before starting to tease at some of the tape to take off the dressing. “But I need, more than anything, to know that you’re ok.”

“I’m ok. I miss you.” The sudden emotion made my lip wobble a little bit, knowing it was a better idea to at least check it wasn’t anything major having gone wrong but desperately, suddenly, having been trying too hard to rewind to far before it had happened. “I miss you and please-“

“Hey, hey hey. Shh.” He shook his head slightly, steadying my chin to make me look him in the eye and make it sink in, expression on his face definitely not helping, before rubbing a tear out with his thumb as I didn’t quite manage to build the dam high enough. “It’ll be healed soon, I promise.”

“I know.”

“I know it’s frustrating.”

“I know you do. Sorry I keep..” _Deep breaths._ “Forgetting this is almost normal-“

“Maybe for me to be hurt. Definitely not for you to be hurt. Honestly it’s harder than riding a race with broken bones, watching you wince.”

“Thought I hid it better.”

“Not from me.”

“I know.”

“I know you know.”

_And we’re back._ I gritted my teeth slightly as he raised his eyebrows in a silent question, about to pull the dressing back to check the damage and given permission to do so, before I relaxed as his face did.

“It’s ok. Just change it and it should be fine. Ok?”

I nodded again, suddenly a bit mute, and watched like it was a cut scene in a video game as a new dressing and bandage suddenly appeared on my leg, fingers gentle and bright white a comforting difference to the red shock of colour still visible on the discarded one on the floor. “Please touch me.”

“What?”

“I’m not going to break and I know maybe it can get messy and it’s a better idea to sleep in a separate bed and all of that, but honestly it hurts more in my head because-“

“I know.”

“DO you?”

“Yes. I know you quite well you know…” _That smile will kill me._ “I think.”

“Sometimes I’m worried I’m going insane.” I let my voice drop to a whisper and managed to find just enough courage to keep my eyes on his as I said it. “Is that normal?”

“How?”

_And now we’re discussing mental health in the bathroom, naked._ “Er…just…really up and down. Really scarily up and down. Like I’m walking on air for a few minutes because I managed to do something I thought would hurt too much, and then something happens and honestly…” I trailed off and swallowed slightly, trying to figure out how to say it, before letting it go with a little shrug. “I scare myself.”

“Scare yourself?”

_And now I’ve scared you._ “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Tell me what you mean. _Please._ ”

_Oh, shit._ “No, no, not that. Not that. Just…angry. Really angry, like I want to yell and scream at everyone and everything and I wish I could throw things around and honestly I would if I could. Everything’s suddenly the worst it could be and everything is against me.”

“Oh.”

“Sorry.”

“Ana why are you apolo-“

“Because it’s getting later and later and you need sleep because you need to get up-“

“Ok, stop. Stop making everything seem like a big deal, ok? It’s practice, and I do need some good sleep. I won’t get good sleep if we’re rushing through important things. So take a deep breath….” He mirrored the one I took, nodding, and squeezed my hand. “Good. Ok, so you feel angry. At me? At anyone?”

“Not you. Everyone else.”

“Ok…”

I caught the end of the little bashful smile and nodded, feeling everything calm down a bit again. _Get a grip._ “But it’s ok. Right? When I’m better it will go away.”

“I think it will. But it might follow you around for a little while.”

“Follow me around?”

“It’s going to take a long time for there to be no trace of this, you know.”

“I know.” I bit my lip again as it wobbled, expression on his face and red splash on the floor making it all hit me again, before taking another big gulp of air in and nodding. “I _know._ ”

“But we’ll get through it, ok? I promise. Anything, anywhere…we’ll deal with it.”

“I know we will.”

_Finally you sound very sure._ “Good.”

_Now you’re smiling._ “I don’t doubt that. For a second. I have a good coach.”

“Cheesy, Anita…”

“I know.” I nodded and sniffed slightly, another big breath, before letting him help me back to the bed and lying where I had been before, waiting, hoping he knew it was more a need than a want, and feeling myself cling on even more than normal as his lips started to journey from neck down, ending up under all the sheets in a fragile little heap, surrounded by MotoGP rider. “Thank you-“

“Don’t even try-“

“Ok fine shh go to sleep yeah ok.” I said it quickly through a sleepy smile, snuggling even further and replying to the little reassuring touch that ghosted over my back. “Love you. Night.”

“Night.” Now two, under the sheets and echoing a little contented sigh around the cocoon we’d created. “I love you too, very very much.” 

I waited a few seconds before managing to find his lips in the dark again, kiss lasting a lot longer than it should have on the night before practice at 300kph, but still coming up slightly short. _I will be fine and it will all be healed and we won’t talk about how I know it should be better than this already. But we will be ok, because we don’t lose._


	36. Soon Is Too Long

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ♥ hope you like :)
> 
> Sorry it's a bit short :/ !! Natural break :)

_I shouldn’t._ He flipped the phone again a couple of times, Malaysian heat oppressive but inside ruined slightly by the possibility of waking her up, and then nodded to himself and took another deep breath. _I shouldn’t for me. I definitely should for her._ The dial tone seems to take an age, before eventually the moment rushes up to hit him in the face and he’s actually listening to the _ciao!_ as he answers. _I should. Right?_ “Hello. It’s me.”

_“Hello me. Who is me?”_

“Jorge.”

_“Oh.”_

_If a syllable could be a book…_ “Sorry to call you.”

_“Whether you need to apologise or not depends on why you’re calling…”_

“Then I don’t think I need to apologise. And I do need to talk to you. In private.”

_“What’s going on?”_

“I don’t want to say too much.”

_“So it’s either Yamaha or Ana.”_

“Yeah.”

_“So which?”_

“Which do you think?”

_“Did something happen? Is she ok?”_

“You’ll talk?”

_“Is she OK?”_

“She’s not in danger or anything. After Phillip Island. Ok?”

_“Ok. Fine. Bye.”_

_Bye then._ He took another deep breath, calming effect tempered by the moisture he could almost feel condensing on his lungs from the air, and then leant on the railing and stared down at the floor. _Maybe this is a bad idea._

*

“Seriously…”

“Yes.” Vale shrugged at him, slight frown not having left since the conversation with his teammate/nemesis/challenger, and watched Uccio go through a concise history of human emotions before settling on a casual _right well ok…_ kind of shrug. “If he wanted to play games, he would have done it weeks ago.”

“Maybe.”

“Definitely.”

“So you think it’s about her.”

“Ana? Yeah.”

“And you think it’s not going to be something you’ll regret?”

“For Jorge to call means something, so no. I’m not.”

“Right…”

“You coming-“

“No.”

“Yeah didn’t think so.” The Yamaha rider gave him a disapprovingly affectionate glance over the shoulder as he headed out. “Less porn on the hotel bill tonight please…” _I can almost see your middle finger pointed at me through the door._

*

_Maybe this is the worst thing I could have done._ He could see him coming now, through into the interior of the lobby, lit up in his black and yellow, nodding at the receptionists. _Maybe this is the best thing I could have done._ The door opened. _But whichever, it is what I’ve done._

“Ciao.”

“Hi.”

*

_Something bad, then._ The state of him, even for the enemy, is quite obviously not what an athlete should look like at not-too-late-o’clock. _Something with Ana. Something you care about enough to have called ME._

“Ciao.”

“Hi…”

*

“Thanks for coming.”

“It’s about Ana, so of course.”

_Hmm._ “It is.”

“Something bad happened.”

“Um…kind of?”

“Jorge.” The Italian moved further away from the light coming through the windows of the hotel and shepherded him slightly up to the tables and chairs, deserted at this time of night anyway. “Just tell me. You think I can help?”

“I don’t know, but there’s not many more people know her very well.”

“Ok…”

“Congratulations on the win.”

“Just say it.”

“Ok.” _Here we go._ “I’m really worried.”

*

_I can see that._ “Right…”

_We’re not killing each other. We’re talking and not killing each other._ “She’s, er…I don’t even know how to explain….”

“Try..?”

“I am.”

“Ok sorry, carry on.”

“Right well…” _She’s gone._ “She’s frustrated, with the healing, after the crash?”

“Ok…”

“And I keep saying ‘ok it’s going to get better, it’s ok, soon soon soon…’”

“And soon is too long.”

“Soon is too long.” They shared a look, somehow communicating that each understands that the subtext is not _she needs to be patient_ and more _there’s something more to it._

*

Motegi, post-race Monday

_Urgh. I think it got fucking WORSE._ I rolled over and grimaced as my leg didn’t roll all the way with me, before realising why and gritting my teeth. “Urgh.”

“Morning…”

I looked back at the little smile, immediately disappearing in front of me, before trying to bring it back and knowing he was seeing right through me. _Can’t you turn that off?_ “Morning.”

“Ok?”

“Ermm…yeah?”

“Leg?”

“Hmm…” I nodded down at it and then caught the look on his face as he looked back at me, having seen it. 

“Shit Ana, you need to go and see someone-“

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine.”

“It will be.”

“It won’t unless-“

“ _It WILL be, ok?_ ” I felt a little shiver of guilt at the hurt expression that created, before wincing my way upright and pulling the dressing and congealed gross-ness of my leg off the sheet, eventually making it, after much protestation, to behind the locked bathroom door, staring myself down in the mirror. _It will be. It will be._


	37. Clarity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much :) ♥ I hope you like it?
> 
> Also sorry I ruined the timeline slightly I think...I will go back and change the word 'Sepang' but the post-flyaway getaway Jorge planned is now post-PI which is the last flyaway in this reality and the race where this convo is happening. :)

“It should be better.”

“It did get better.”

“And then it got worse again?”

“I think so. Honestly I…I shouldn’t have fucking gone to Misano.” He smacked his hand down on the table and gritted his teeth to try and keep the calm exterior slightly intact, before shaking his head and leaning on his hands. _Fuck._ “So I’d lose the title for sure but I don’t care if this is the alternative.”

“Woah, woah, woah. Who said anything about _losing_?”

“Sorry I don’t…I mean…not her _life_.” _Don’t show it, don’t show it._ “I mean she’s not herself. She’s like running on half power or something. She won’t talk to me. She won’t let me talk about it. She won’t talk to Casey. She won’t talk to Lucy or Adri. She won't talk.”

“Ok…”

“And she’s drinking.”

“Drinking.”

“More than I’d say was just for enjoyment. Nothing terrible. Just not _her_.”

“Ok…”

“And she will _not_ go and see someone about it.”

“Is it bad?”

“Not too bad. But it should be gone, and it isn’t.”

“You love her.”

Jorge looks at him, like he’s crazy, anger bubbling again, before noticing the expression it’s coupled with, something very genuine in there, like Vale’s just learnt how to see after being blindfolded for too long. “Yeah. I do. Did everything not make that clear? Causing a civil war in my team, crashes with you, getting my car keyed, threats through my door, whispers round every corner, headlines on every corner, booing me like I’m the devil on the podium? At what point…” He looked at him again, properly, voice angry but most definitely vindicated. “…did you think it was for _fun_.”

“I never thought that.”

“So what did you think, hmm?”

“Honestly?”

“Well it would be a nice change.”

“Ouch.” The Italian takes a little breath and shrugs. “Ok honestly? I had something and you wanted it. Like always.”

“You really think it’s about you.”

“Not now.”

“You really thought it was about you.”

“Maybe I did.”

“You think I care that much about you? That I’d what, think I wanted her then get bored?”

“I thought it was about me more than you let on.”

“No.”

“Red and white, angel and devil…I guess all good ideas come from somewhere…” _I shouldn’t have said that._

“Ok this was a mistake. Fuck you.” The Mallorcan got to his feet, chair scraping unceremoniously across the floor behind him, before turning to start to leave and gritting his teeth as a hand grabbed him to stop him. _This had better be good._

“Sorry.”

 _Wow._ “You know you didn’t invent everything.”

“I do.”

“You know I wanted to beat you more than anything because you were the best.”

“Maybe.”

“Definitely. And I did it. More than once. More than twice. More than that. And honestly I respected you a lot. But then, you know…you just have to keep being a fucking asshole at the wrong time.”

 _Past tense._ “Me.”

“You.”

“You stole her.”

“You never had her. And she’s not a thing.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Well then you shouldn’t say it like that, it’s fucking simple.”

“Jorge…”

“What.”

“You were worried enough to call-“

“Yes, because I thought you’d care enough to talk to me. But I think I was wrong.”

“You’re not wrong.”

The tense silence lasted a few seconds, both calming again and Jorge visibly relaxing, before he looked back at his teammate and let a tiny smile appear. “Can I get that in writing…”

“Never.” The wicked smile, but the eyes saying a bit more, before they went rounder and the frown came back. “What can I do? Talk to her?”

“I don’t know.”

“So why did you call?”

“Because Nicky and Scott left, and I don’t know what to do.”

“Where is she?”

“In our room.”

 _Ouch._ “How is she?”

“Asleep because she took some sleeping pills to sleep.” He looked at the face that created before managing to nod and rubbing his hands over his face. “ _I know._ ”

“How long has this been happening?”

“Since Motegi.”

“Wh-“

“Sunday.”

“You won.”

“I did.”

“That didn’t help?”

“After that, somehow she’s sat in a heap on the end of the bed staring at the floor watching me take her clothes off like she’s not even there. We had to change the dressing early again. Her dad called. She was upset for Dani.” 

“Right…” The little twinkle of amused Pedrosa-confusion broke the mood again slightly before he sighed and stared up at the sky, hands on hips. “Well…she shouldn’t be alone-“

“I know.”

“So why are you here-“

“Because I’m not inviting you to the room when she’s like this.”

“That bad?”

“I don’t know what you’ve shared but yesterday it took us 45 minutes to get down for breakfast and her knuckles were white holding onto my hand.”

“So it’s more mental than physical?”

“I don’t know. It’s not healed very well. But everything else is getting worse as well.”

“Ok. So again…what can I do?”

“Honestly? I don’t know.”

“So…”

“You know I thought you’d care more.”

“Fuck you. I care a lot.”

“Yeah? So wh-“

“ _Because everything I want to do is a line you won’t let me cross._ ”

 _They're lines you shouldn't need to cross._ “Ok fuck it, fine. Let’s have the conversation. Right now. Ok?” He folded his arms and ended up in that same slightly insolent shrug. _Or maybe they're lines I created._

“What conversation.”

“The one where we’re honest. I’ll start. I’m sorry you got hurt. I didn’t want to hurt you. I don’t care if you don’t believe that. I don’t hate you and I never have. But what we have, me and Ana, that’s the kind of thing you do anything for. Even this, where it feels like the world hates you. And it’s not even true, why they hate me, and I’m still just biting my tongue because it’s ‘easier’. Because she doesn’t want you to get hurt. And neither do I, but sometimes I’m fucking tempted. And I would do it all again.”

“Right.”

“And I think you’ve made it easier sometimes because you really do care about her. Maybe you actually love her, I don’t know. Maybe we’d both jump off a bridge for her without a second thought, maybe it would just be me. But I would. So that’s why I’m here. Because when things like this happen, you kind of realise who your friends are. And people here haven’t really changed. But there’s no one else. Don’t know if you realise that? There seems to be no one else I can call who knows her this well. There’s a few friends in England and a few from Spain, newer ones. Ones who seem less interested now. Her parents barely even fucking noticed that she almost died. So this is it, it’s just you and me. And before this conversation, even letting you in on the fact that everything wasn’t perfect, maybe it would have made me sick. But it suddenly sunk in, somehow. She’s not going back to you because she wasn’t with you. But she’s going somewhere and someone is going to have to follow her.”

“I would.”

“I am doing.”

“So…”

“So she has to fucking listen.”

“You want me to talk to her.”

“I want her to understand that for us to agree it must be something important.”

The Italian let out a long breath before seeming to let that sink in and then nodding. “Ok.”

 _Just like that?_ “Seriously.”

“Yes. Seriously.”

“So you don’t hate me that much.”

The Italian looked at the floor and bit his lip, letting out a long whoosh of air before meeting his gaze again. “I don’t hate you. I hate how it’s turned out.”

“You don’t have to lie.”

“I’m not, actually.” Vale shrugged and ended up in a kind of _somehow now I’m telling the truth_ face, everything suddenly calming again to that weird late night mood where honesty rules, even when you don't want it to. “It’s easier to pretend I hate you, you know?”

“What?”

 _Well..._ “It’s easier to pretend you did something terrible…”

 _Oh._ It hit Jorge a few miliseconds before it ended up said out loud anyway; sudden, real emotion on the face staring back at him. _Oh._

“…than to admit I just wasn’t enough for the woman I love.""


	38. As Long As You Follow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title by Fleetwood Mac, fluff by Jorge Lorenzo, mistakes = model's own [sorry I'm pretty tired!]. ♥
> 
> Thank you and ENJOY! :)

She’s still asleep when he gets back, sitting on the end of the bed and looking back at her, sighing to himself and then turning to catch his own gaze in the mirror. _It’s like we fell off a cliff in a week._ He ends up doing that for too long, unsure of what to do and unable to shut the spinning thoughts out of his mind, before finally looking down at the leg and waiting to see how deeply asleep she is. Judging it to be ‘enough’, he pulls back the sheet and studies it for a few seconds before sighing again and turning back to the mirror, no one else there but him to try and unravel the expression on his face. _You are going to be ok. Because I won’t allow anything else._

*

I woke up before him, as was rare, and spent a few minutes watching him sleep, very carefully arranged as close as possible to me without risking hurting me, and took a few deep breaths once I felt the little power-up of _this is Jorge Lorenzo in this bed with you_ go through me, that having been the mantra of the week and certainly the past few days, since I’d almost somehow ended up running back to KLIA suddenly wanting to go home and just run and forget it – as though going home alone and locking myself in an empty haunted house was going to do anything other than make it worse. It was getting harder though. I wasn’t really sure why, wasn’t really sure what had changed so dramatically, but the moment when it seemed to was staring at the floor in Japan, sat on the end of the bed, everything supposed to be great and improving, pain still there, flashbacks of a van screeching towards my face having started appearing again, not even a win enough to keep it at bay. My dad called, we argued, I cried about it. In secret over a cigarette before Scott found me and I found myself managing to lie to him about how I was more successfully than I’d expected. Then Nicky, in Sepang, didn’t see through it. Jorge did. So I tried harder, and had started to think I was getting away with it. But I remembered the moment staring down at him as gentle fingers hooked under the hem of my t shirt to pull it off, the pause then as we’d looked at each other and I’d tried to say _just having a bad day, everything will be fine soon, I know_ , and instead ended up somehow, it felt, pleading with him to do something about it even though I had no idea what could really make a difference. _Hi, I know you know I’m lying but trying, please find the off switch._

*

_And I talked to Valentino._ He’s sat leaning back on the headboard, now in boxers, close enough to let his fingers trace gently over the forearm she’s left closest to him, watching and thinking and frowning and frowning even more at the person he’s frowning at being the one who usually takes the frown away, everything somehow feeling heavy. Limbs, pressure, future, press and gossip and everything else. _And I talked to Valentino._ After a while he turns off the light and slides down onto the pillow, watching her eyes suddenly shoot open and find his, a quick ragged breath taken in before he grits his teeth and realises what it is. “Hey.”

“h-hii.”

“Flashb-“

“Yes.”

*

I tried to breathe a bit steadier, closing my eyes again to concentrate on reality and finding my fingernails digging into him a bit too hard as his arm went round me to pull me in and plant a kiss on my forehead, that helping a bit and filling my vision with more positivity than the weird fog I’d been living in, before I could hear myself filling the air with pointless babbling, most of which was in English much too fast for him to have any idea what I was saying and honestly I hadn’t a clue either, taking in a few deep breaths and listening to him echo me perfectly, fingers tracing little patterns on my back until I was obviously a lot calmer.

“Did you have a nightmare-“

“No.” Another breath. “I just woke up anyway. I think you moved. Then it just…” I let out another whoosh of air and shrugged against him. “…went.”

“But you slept ok before?”

_I think you’re magic._ My senses suddenly seemed to be back, skin against mine feeling warm again, breath warm, words whispered low into my ear and more like low grade heroin than a human voice, everything suddenly so much calmer. “No. It’s one of the virtues of never sleeping, Mr Bond. I get to live my dreams.” I smiled into his chest as I felt the slightly emotional smile get wider on his face, understanding I had to lighten the mood a bit, remind myself and maybe him that I had a personality, somehow, before I snuggled down to almost invisible between Spartan and duvet, only hair visible and soon joined mostly by him, like we’d disappeared down a comfortable and very safe mine shaft.

“Hey. Ok down here?”

“Better down here. Even better with you down here.”

“Good. Then I’ll stay.”

“Always stay, Jorge.”

“Hey…” He shook his head slightly, I could just about see, before finding my hand in the dark and lacing our fingers together. “You will probably have to kill me to get rid of me.”

“Promise?”

“Promise. Although I don’t like the way you said that…” I knew he was smiling and somehow knew he knew I was smiling back, my hand squeezed and a kiss planted on the back of it. 

“Probably will be staying with you, murder is definitely the second fave.”

“Cool, ok.”

“That’s the problem though isn’t it?” I felt my voice go back to that incredibly quiet whisper and we ended up instinctively closer together. “I am living my dream.”

“That’s never a problem.”

“It is when it doesn’t feel like it.”

“You mean me-“

“No, I don’t mean you. Never, ever, ever you. I _promise_.”

“So which-“

“I just mean I am living my dream but I feel half asleep.”

_God._ “You know…we’re worried about you.”

“We?”

“Everyone who loves you and knows you.”

“Not sure anyone except you noticed…”

“They did. Scott came to find me after practice. Nicky sent me a text to check how you were.”

“Vale?”

“You’ve not really seen him much have you?”

“I guess not.”

“I saw him though. Earlier.”

“Was it ok?”

“He wanted to know about you.”

“Did he?”

“Yes, my love. I think he means what he says.”

“Which bit?”

“Well _obviously not most of it.._ ” He grinned at me, both of us slightly further up the pillow now and with a bit more light, before tucking some hair behind my ear and watching himself do it, eyes taking a second to re-focus on mine. “But I think he means it when he says he loves you. And then there’s me…”

“I said everyone else.”

“I know, but doesn’t hurt to remind you I love you.”

“You know it doesn’t.” _Ever._ “You know when you asked me in the pool to always give you that extra 1%-“

“This is nothing like that.”

“Maybe it is, a bit-“

“This is nothing compared to that, I promise. This hurts because I can’t help you. It’s not your fault.”

“I don’t think that was all your fault.”

“99%...”

“Hmm.”

“Ana?”

“Hmm?”

“Which is worse, the leg or the…head?”

“Head.”

_She’s talking._ “Ok. How is the leg?”

“Scary.”

“It didn’t look too bad, I snooped.”

“Snoopy.”

“Ana…”

“Ok well I don’t know. It hurts and it should be gone.”

“Will you let me see it?”

“Yes. Tomorrow.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Ok. Now…I think that will help. Any ideas what would make you happier?”

“Maybe if we just stay in the bed forever.”

“You feel ok now?”

“Yeah. Normal. Frustrated and upset but like…a normal amount.”

“Ok, good.”

“It ends as soon as you leave.”

“Oh, _Ana._ ” I knew my lip had wobbled a bit but I thought I’d done a better job of the control overall, the way he said that and suddenly cupped my cheek into a kiss dispelling any notion I had of being able to keep the brave face.

“I’m trying though.”

“I know you are.”

“I need help though.”

“I’m here. Vale is here. Nicky and Scott are now very far away but with a phone call they can be here enough.”

“You don’t mind me talking to them?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Wh-“

“Because you’re talking to me, first. Shall I tell you a secret?”

“Please.”

“Tomorrow morning, we’re going to have a guest at breakfast.”

“No I don’t-“

“You do.”

“Jorge you don’t-“

“Like I was saying…” I gave up on trying to interrupt and smiled at the I-am-right-please-listen expression on his face, before trying to do just that. “We’re going to have breakfast with someone pretty cool. He can be an ass, but he is cool.”

“I always have breakfast with you…”

_See, you’re definitely still in there somewhere._ “Cheeky.”

“Usually more.”

“Well this guy is definitely cheeky. He’s Italian, you know him better than me. And we’re going to have breakfast with him, and we’re going to talk about injuries and healing and crashing, and we’re not going to get too overwhelmed or ignore it, and we’re going to smile at each other because we want to, not because we’re being filmed.”

“He’ll never-“

“9am, the table where he sat yesterday. His idea.”

“And you-“

“I called him first.”

“What?!”

“I called him, and we talked. And I trust you, and I love you, and we’re going to sort everything out, starting with you and ending with a World Championship and a genuine handshake. Does that sound like a plan?”

“Sounds like a dream.”

“Then we’ll get started tomorrow, and we’ll have our holiday and lots and lots of moments like these, and then we’ll go and storm Valencia. Deal?”

“I love you.”

“I love me too but do we have a deal?”

“ _YES._ ”


	39. "Tus padres son tus padres"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Your parents are your parents" ... an actual Lorenzo quote. ;)
> 
> I hope you like it...please let me know if you do or don't? The paranoia of the silence :/!!! ♥

We woke up at 8.57am, and then fumbled for the phone, feeling the _let’s not send the wrong message here_ , to find a message already waiting. And he’d not sent it to _me_.

Vale: Ciao. It’s 4am and I am not asleep yet

Vale: Breakfast is now lunch before we fly, 1pm. Ok?

Jorge: Ok, we just woke up, worried about the time…

Jorge: Didn’t want to set it off on the wrong foot by messing you around…

Jorge: But you already did, so… ;)

Jorge: Also please take this the right way, Ana says it’s too soon for humour

Vale: Fuck off I’m asleep

Vale: (jaja ok ;) )

I smiled at that, and Jorge did too, nerves of _oh maybe that was too soon…_ disappearing quickly, before we ended up staring at each other across the pillow.

“Hey.”

“Hey. Sleep ok after the flashback?”

“Yes, thank you. I had good company.” I leant forward and pecked him on the lips, which soon turned into more and was only interrupted when I didn’t manage to hide a wince at the movement.

“Shit. Hurts?”

“Yeah.”

“Ok, I’m going to check who’s still here.”

“What?”

“Clinica mobile. I think there’ll be someone…” He trailed off as he saw the look on my face. “Ana, it’s not getting better on its own.”

“I know.”

“So we get help. Simple.”

_We._ “Not that simple.”

“Why?”

“Fear.”

“I thought you knew yourself better than that.”

_What a choice of words._ I stared back at him for a few seconds, letting that sink in and watching the battle between self-assuredness on the surface and nerves underneath. “You do.”

“I know what I would do, so I know what you would do.”

“You’re stronger than me.”

“I can lift Ricky. But…” He smiled into another peck on the lips before settling back down and finding my hand under the covers. “You would be me, if you had been a rider.”

“But I’m not.”

“So you’ve not practiced as much as me, maybe. That doesn’t mean it’s not there.”

“You really think I can just-“

“Not ‘just’, no. But I really think you can.”

“I’m worried you’re wrong.”

“If you don’t try, you don’t know.”

“I know.”

“Actions speak louder than words.”

“I know.” I smiled and raised my eyebrows. “Got any more?”

“Hmm well…Hard work makes anything possible. You can’t win every battle but you can always learn something. You have to know defeat to enjoy victory…”

“Not bad.” I smiled at the little smile looking back at me and closed my eyes as his hand gently put some hair behind the ear I wasn’t leaning on the pillow with. “I think we need more though.”

“Ana, what did he say to you?”

“Who?”

“Your dad. In Japan. What did he say?”

I shrugged half-heartedly and sighed, snuggling down into his chest and avoiding the eye contact, although he seemed to accept that once I started to talk again and his arm went round me. “Nothing much, the usual.”

“What’s the usual?”

“You know the usual.”

“I know the usual ten years ago baby, I don’t know the usual now.”

_Maybe that’s true._ “The same things, updated for my new failures.”

“Ouch.”

“Yup…”

“But you did everything.”

“What?”

“You did everything you said.”

“I didn’t do everything he said.”

“No but you achieved everything he wanted.”

“Did I?”

“Yeah?” He pulled away slightly to make me look at him and frowned. “You got a good job, you got a nice house. You got a good degree. You’re an amazing person. You’re going to have a family with someone you love and someone who loves you.”

“And that’s why I’m ok.”

“I know you’re ok, or you will be. I also know that you shouldn’t ever have not been ok.”

“I don’t think we should talk about this before we have to go out in public.”

“We’ll get room service. Just tell me, what’s the problem?”

“He doesn’t believe me.”

“Believe what?”

“Believe I’ve achieved what I have, or more that that’s worth much. Because I’m not in the business section of the newspaper, spreading the family name. I’m not married yet either. I don’t have kids. I’m not rich. I’m just enough what he wanted for him to still try and push, and never quite enough to be enough.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“That’s why I said yes to Valentino.”

“What?”

“Because I know it’s bullshit. I know life isn’t about those things. But I thought he’d realise at some point, maybe when he saw me happy and loved by someone successful.”

“Realise?”

“That I did well.”

“You’re doing well.”

“Not so much.”

“Even on his terms, you’re doing well, ok?”

“Hmm.”

“Well you’re rich, now…” He gave me a little smile and nodded. “You’re rich now, you’re engaged, we have plans for kids. You’re in allll the newspapers…” He smiled more sadly at that and nodded, kiss on my forehead. “Because you’re the kind of person that other people can’t live without. Which is the best achievement, isn’t it?”

“What?”

“Well you know we ended up here a bit by accident, but I wasn’t going to let you leave without saying something. I wasn’t even going to let you stay without saying something. And I know you know all this, and I know you agree with all this, but I don’t know why you’re still listening to him.”

“'Tus padres son tus padres…'”

“They are. And I’ve been through this a thousand times in my head too, believe me. But they’re just people.”

“Hmm?”

“People make mistakes, and they aren’t perfect. I would have loved to have had my dad be everything I really needed sometimes, but he’s never going to be. But I can’t change it. We can’t change anything. I wouldn’t want to.”

“I would.”

“Really?”

“Well, yeah…”

“Even if it made you a different person.”

I stared at him for a few more seconds, as the morning was turning into that kind of staring-fuelled thought marathon, and shrugged. “Maybe a different person would be a little better.”

“Maybe they would. Same here. Or maybe a different person would be in the business section of the newspapers, setting the price of drugs too high for people to afford, instead of organizing events to help get those drugs to people who need them, for free.”

“That makes it sound like I was a saint.”

“Past tense?”

“Don’t.” I smiled and shook my head. “You know what I mean.”

“I do, but do you know what I mean?”

“Yes.”

“I know you do.”

“I know you know I do and I’m frustrated that I believe it and don’t feel it.”

“We can change that. You know that, yeah?”

“I can’t even get a night’s sleep right now.”

“Maybe you can’t, but _we_ can. Maybe I can’t win the title, but _we_ can. Maybe I can’t beat my paranoia, but _we_ can. We already started.”

“I keep forgetting.” 

“Forgetting.”

I nodded and took a deep breath, words seriously sinking in, to a painful and sudden degree. “I keep forgetting you’re not going to let me down, and I’m really, really sorry.”

“Know the feeling…” He raised his eyebrows and smiled sadly at the emotion on my face, both remembering the same position but the other way round, his paranoia about Tavullia and the irony of the role reversal. “I’ll never let you down, but you don’t have to be sorry.”

“You are.”

“I am sorry, yeah. Because I took it out on you, not myself.”

“I’m not taking it out on myself.”

“So who are you taking it out on?”

I stayed quiet and then shrugged in defeat. “Us.”

“No, just you.”

“OK fine, maybe me.”

“So stop.”

“You make it sound so simple.”

“Like I said last night, amor, it’s just another challenge, and just another set of hurdles to jump. If you’re happy.”

“I will be.”

“You promise. With me, and kids, and lots of scarves. That’s enough-”

“Yes. With you and babies and lots of scarves, that’s all I’ve wanted since I saw you. It’s not enough, it makes me cry because it’s almost too much. I’m so scared it won’t last.” I said that, sharp intake of breath from both of us and me just as shocked as him, before closing my eyes again for a second as I took a breath.

“I’ll love you forever.”

“I know that.” I looked back at him and pulled our hands into view, ring pointed at him. “I never thought I’d be able to say yes to something like this. So I know that.”

“But…”

“But I’m not going to be a great MotoGP mum if I can’t walk, there’s no grandparents, my name is trashed and I’m so scared of riding again that it wakes me up in the middle of the night.”

“I’m going to be honest now.”

“Please do.”

“You’re scared after crashing. I know it, and it can get better. A lot better. Your name will be cleaned up after a while. Grandparents are nothing compared to how lucky a kid would be to have you as their mother. Will be.”

“I’m the ironic girlfriend of the 340kp/h rider who almost got killed doing 60.”

“It is kind of ironic, yeah. But you’re not that. You had a bad crash, and you got hurt. But it’s not that bad.”

“You don’t know-“

“I think I do, enough to say this without being worried that I’m lying. You are going to be fine. The reason you think you’re not going to be fine is because you’re convinced it’s too good to be true.”

_Fuck off._ I closed my eyes again and gritted my teeth for a second. “Right.”

“You mean-“

“Yes, I mean _you’re right._ ” I sat up and stretched my arms towards the ceiling, nodding to myself and then moving the sheet back to look at my leg, something fired up again. “You said you wanted to see it. You want to see it?”

“Yes.”

“And you definitely want to marry me.”

“That escalated quickly.”

“Answer it!”

“No. I asked you. I love you. I tell you every day and show you every day. I don’t need to answer questions.”

_Well I definitely remember having said that to you a few thousand times._ “You know….” I turned back to look at him and fake glared, smug face looking back at me making me want to hit it or fuck it, emotion high and mood somehow slightly hysterical to compensate. “I thought our private therapy was subject to patient confidentiality.”

“What can I say…”

_Don’t do it-_

“…I just love the Doctor.”

“Oh dear.” I facepalmed internally and grinned at the face looking back at me. _Way too proud of yourself._

“Sorry…”

“Yeah well…”

“You’ll forgive me.”

“I will. You called Valentino for me. I think we made big progress.”

“We did. And we’ll go and see the real doctor.”

“We will.”

“And we won’t let bad things from our parents affect us.”

“We won’t.”

“That one is important.”

“It is.” I took a deep breath, something finally allowing me to say it out loud and face it, the biggest fear of all of them, as he sat up next to me and I nodded, leaning down onto his shoulder. “Because I think I’m pregnant.” _And that’s why all this suddenly seemed like the biggest thing in the world._


	40. Secrets to hide?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like it! Thank you ♥

“Say something.” I stared at him, now sat up side by side and looking at each other, knowing my eyes were as ridiculously round and wide as they’d ever been, as my heart hammered in my chest. “Jorge, please-“

“P-pregnant?!”

“Yeah…” _Shocked. Just shocked, not positive or negative. Ok, me too._ “I think so.”

“Wh…H-“

“I think I fucked up because I’ve been distracted and forgot to take a pill.” _Should I apologise._ “Sorr-“

He shook his said as I started to say it, eyes filling up and tracking down my torso until they were aimed at my stomach, pulling the duvet back and then staring at me in wonder. “God, don’t apologise. I mean…” _Words, words, need them._ “I mean I don’t know…do you want it? Now?”

The expression on my face obviously said enough.

“God, no. Ana, I want it. I want it so much but I don’t want to sit here and make it seem like you don’t have a choice.”

“Oh.” _Wow._ “So you want it-“

“You want me to be honest-“

“Really honest.”

“Ok.” He smiled at me slowly, going from tentative to beaming like someone turning up a dimmer switch, before his hands were cupping my cheeks and his eyes were staring what felt like into my soul, feeling 4 miles closer. “Then I don’t think I’ve ever felt anything like this before.”

“Good-“

“The best thing in the world.” His eyes welled up again before his hand found mine and pressed them both against my stomach. “D-do you want it?”

“I-I’m really scared.”

Again, the expression obviously said enough, filling in the _I’m terrified, but…in the best way…_. “We’re going to have a baby.”

“Well…” I let the smile come out, his expression absolutely infectious, before finding myself clinging on and my voice more like a whisper, both incredibly emotional. “I-I am. I c-can’t do that ag-“

“Ana if you want this, we’re having this. Ok?”

“I know it’s earlier-“

“Listen to me, please.” His lips pressed against my ear, one hand in my hair and the other around me through the pathetic clinging-on I still couldn’t break. “I don’t want to pressure you. But I don’t want you to think this isn’t my dream come true. Me, and you, and a family. I want more titles. I want to win races. But I would – and if you want me to I will – go home now and not have a single regret, for this. Ok?”

“You mean it.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“We’re going to have a family.”

I squeezed back and nodded into his neck, definitely more crying now than not and imagining from the wobble in his voice that he was the same. “We are.”

*

It took a while and lots of crying for it to sink in, before we carefully managed to celebrate and avoid hurting my leg in the process, sheets now definitely in need of changing and sticky afterglow possibly the best thing in the world as we lay there in wonder staring at my stomach, him lying face down with his head propped on his hands, index finger tracing little patterns across the skin and eyes catching mine every few seconds or so, both in terrified heaven. We agreed not to tell anyone until we were sure, although I was pretty sure, and eventually we were dressed and clean and just about finished packing before the knock on the door; the first doctor of the day.

After the emotional release of the previous couple of hours, I didn’t have much energy to even be that nervous. I just sat there like it was a documentary, watched them take off the dressing and wrench it around a bit, studied the doctor’s face for any sign of _I’m sorry we’re going to have to chop it off_ , and then we were suddenly alone again, me with instructions about how to look after it and some antibiotics and physio exercises to do over the course of the time we were away before it got checked again, and him trying to be angry at me about that little part I’d not told him.

“Is this why you wouldn’t go and see someone?”

“No. But THIS is why I didn’t tell you.”

“Any other day…”

“I know.” I grinned slightly sheepishly and pouted my best puppy dog eyes. “You can’t be mean to me for ages, now. I have precious cargo.”

“I’m never mean!”

“Pffffffff.” I let my eyes say the _no, I know_ as his arms went round me from behind and we ended up staring at each other in the mirror grinning, hands clasped over my stomach. _You’re so obsessed, already._ “Not MUCH.”

“If you do it again though-“

“I WON’T.”

“Ok.”

“Really ok or just-“

“No, it’s ok.” The confirmation nod. “It’s more than ok.”

“Well this was easier than I expected.” I turned my head to peck him on the cheek and smiled. “I will check myself out much earlier than I was meant to, every time.”

“Don’t even joke.”

“You know some women in less developed countries give birth and keep working the same day-“

“Don’t. Even. Think. About. It.”

“Yeah you’re not even going to let me leave the house alone are you-“

“I’m _probably_ going to get a tracking device.”

“Great.”

“Secrets to hide?”

“Not too many although it’s going to be hard keeping my drug running under the radar, now.”

“‘Things you shouldn’t say in South East Asia’.”

“Jeje I KNOW.” We both grinned again before there was a little satisfied sigh and I turned round to face him properly. “So that’s where we’re going…?”

“Not necessarily…”

“Oh. But we have to anyway to get out of Aus…”

“Exactly. If you could go anywhere in the world to celebrate your engagement…AND the news we have now…” _Please say I got this right._ “…where would it be?”

“Um…Hmm. Well…wouldn’t say this in summer but in October…less busy…” I studied his face and started to grin as he did. “You got it right didn’t you?”

“I spent more than the wedding, can I be forgiven?”

“Depends if you booked the one I think you-“

“Danieli.”

“Ok SO MUCH VENICE SEX FOR YOU.”

He grinned at that, eyebrows shooting up and eyes lighting up, before pretending to weight it up and leaning into a kiss. “Ok definitely worth it.”

“One thing though-“

“I know. Pregnancy tests. Secrecy. Trying to not look so happy in front of Vale.”

 _Ok so maybe you do._ “Promise me tomorrow you’ll be less perfect please, today is exhausting trying to keep up.”

The face, happy for the words but completely letting me know I was utterly wrong and he believed the reverse, shone back at me all the way to the lift, where we wheeled our cases in in happy silence and took the last opportunity for a little bit to remind ourselves what we’d just decided on, kiss in my hair and hands hovering on my stomach, before crossing the lobby and leaving the cases to go and find Vale, letting go of each other’s hands automatically, nothing in the world able to threaten us and kindness to his teammate coming easily. He took the last opportunity before we were visible to the waiting Italian to bend down to whisper in my ear. “ _I’ll be surprised if he doesn’t see us glowing._ ”


	41. Listen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little bit of fluff to bridge us over... ♥
> 
> Thank you so much!

“Seriously Ana I will break down the door…”

_“I’m weeing on a stick. You do not need to see.”_

“Ana.”

_“Shh, I’m weeing.”_

“Stop it.”

_“I can’t hear you over the water feature…”_

“10, 9, 8, 7..”

*

I listened to the countdown, smiling to myself and imagining the expression on his face perfectly as I finally opened the door on 3, and then just about managed to stop him from grabbing it and put it on the top of the cistern before being gently wrestled into a hug.

“I’ve seen it all before…”

“Yes, you have. Accidentally or in moments when my grace took a bit of a hit.”

“Grace. Nice name…”

“Smooth, Lorenzo. Smooooth.”

“Always…”

“Hey Sassy Jorge, I like you. Can we keep you?”

“Yes.” He pulled away enough to stare me down, grinning, and then whacked a kiss on the end of my nose. “You can have me forever if you want.”

“I’m a bit busy this month but-“

“Ok stop and let’s check it.”

I smiled and narrowed my eyes at the well-read _nervous chatter to pass the time_ being shut down, and then took a deep breath and nodded. “Ok. Ready?”

“More ready than you by the looks of things…”

“Pffff. It’s fine. Grow another person inside me. Easier than living with you.”

“Ana…”

“OK, FINE.” I grinned and gave him a squeeze before we finally found ourselves staring down and starting to grin. At the stick, then each other, before it was tossed on the floor and I’d somehow pinned an athlete to the bathroom wall and started attacking him with kisses. _I think I’m actually quite excited._ “You know…” I let the words tumble out between breaths and nibbles as we made it back into the bedroom, storey high enough for us to see the lagoon out the window and no one able to see in, Venetian sun the best type of sun for the mood I could imagine. “It…says…a lot…that..I’m not…scared…anymore…”

“It does.” He nodded and pulled my bottom lip between his teeth as his fingers made it under the fabric of my underwear and between my legs, self-satisfied grin I couldn’t see but knew was there accompanying my eyes-shut groan at the ceiling. “Me neither.”

“But…you’re…not…scared….of…anything…”

“Course not…” 

I groaned again and managed to open my eyes for long enough to catch the look in his. _Wow._ The room seemed to suddenly stop and go quiet, my voice sounding weirdly factual and childlike. “Jorge, I really love you.”

“Aw, I love you, too.”

 _I know._ “You don’t ever pull that Tavullia shit again-“

“Never.”

“And neither will I.”

“I know.”

“And we’re going to make the happy ending happen. Ok?”

“It’s not just the end that has to be happy.”

“But the end can’t be sad.”

“I don’t think any of it will be sad.” He shook his head ever-so-slightly before wandering a few kisses down my neck, eye contact brief but often and not forgotten. “I don’t think it can be when it’s true.”

“You know if my leg doesn’t-“

“Don’t-“

“No, I’m not being paranoid, just hear me out. If my leg doesn’t heal, or if something bad happens, or if I need-“

“I will carry you around if I have to.”

“But the reality-“

“The reality is that I run more risks than you do, and you had some bad luck. This conversation should be the other way around.”

“Don’t.”

“You won’t carry me around?” 

I smiled and closed my eyes again as the jaw-to-collarbone journey started again, desperation from before replaced by something slower, and controlled, and nowadays, much more ‘us’. “I will carry you around.”

“Good. I was worried there for a minute…”

“Will you pretend I’m a good cook?”

“I will.”

“And you’ll definitely not get annoyed if a baby chews your scarves.”

“Hmm…I would get a bit annoyed.” He grinned down and raised his eyebrows, voice dropping to something headmasterly. “The child must live by principles.”

“The principle there being…”

“Don’t chew your dad’s fucking scarves.”

“Ok.” I laughed as he did and let my fingers wander down the muscles in his back, now propped up mostly next to me rather than over me, and curled into him, suddenly needing that and, honestly, having been scared to ask for it for a while. “Jorge.”

“Hmm?”

“You know if I do that again and go quiet and stop talking-“

“I’ll call the Doctor..”

I smiled into his chest and shook my head slightly. “No. But I can’t believe you did.”

“Me neither.”

“Me neither again.”

“Pff.”

“But when or if I do that…don’t let me.”

“What worked?”

“Hmm?”

“What worked.” The words hummed much closer into my ear. “Tell me what I should do.”

“Maybe just…be like this. And be patient. And do that…” I smiled again as a finger traced down my arm. “Like you used to do on the phone. Wait.”

 _Like I used to do on the phone._ He smiled at that and planted a kiss in my hair. “That sounds like a good deal. Will it always work?”

“Maybe not first try but we’ll get there.”

“Ok.”

“You know the first time you called me?”

“Hmm…”

“I was sat in the garden in Tavullia.”

“Ok.”

“And I remember looking at my phone and seeing your face flash up – before we started hiding. And I looked back at the house before I answered, and Vale seemed to sense it somehow. He looked back at me and smiled, little wave. I think they were making lunch. And I smiled back and I waved back and then turned back to where I’d been looking before and pressed ‘answer’.”

“I was by the pool.”

“I know, you told me.” I smiled at the memory and splayed my fingers on his chest before looking up for eye contact and smiling. “And I just remember thinking ‘enjoy this time in Italy, because it will end sooner than you expect’.”

“Because of me..?”

“Because of you. That was it really, all you had to do was pick up the phone and talk to me.”

“I didn’t talk so much.”

“Exactly.” I nodded and laced our fingers together for a second, cheese making me smile again but too true to not say. “You listened...”

“I tried to.”

“You did a good job. I’m not really used to it so it still takes a while sometimes. And we’re going to get a lot busier now.”

“We are.”

“And I’m going to marry you like we’re old fashioned Catholics, pregnant already…”

“You are. And I can’t wait for any of it.”

“Me neither.” I leaned up into a kiss and then pulled him down again, taking a little breath before fixing my eyes back on his. “And when we have the baby and we’ve chosen a name and we made a whole new person and they’re screaming down the house and we can’t hear ourselves think-”

“I will still listen to you, yes.”


	42. What's In A Name?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you ♥ !!

We spent the day being typical [and a few times interrupted] tourists, nothing really in the way of feeling free, and got back to the hotel at 720pm to start getting ready. It was meant to be a surprise, what we were doing in the evening, but I had a pretty good idea and was proved right as the dress I’d pointed out the day before was ‘ta-dah!’d out for me, a suit appeared from seemingly nowhere, and we ended up in a private room in a restaurant not too far from the hotel, amazing food and very private but the window providing one of the best views in the world, the island of San Giorgio Maggiore lit up across the mouth of the Grand Canal.

“Been thinking about names yet?”

“Smooth, again…”

He flashed his eyes at me above the spoonful of dessert he was aiming for my mouth. “Yes.”

“Not really but sounds like you have.”

“Maybe a bit…”

“And conclusions?”

“Well I don’t know yet. Depends on if it’s a boy or a girl.” He grinned again, happiness impossible to extinguish, and laced our fingers together across the table. “Or twins…”

“Shhhhh.” I took the next spoonful and shook my head, eyes wide terror mostly pantomime. “God, imagine...”

“I can!”

“Nope.” I shook my head again and closed my eyes, smiling through it and then taking a deep breath as the genuine possibility hit me. “Not ready for that.”

“Ok. Sorry. But…I don’t know. I was thinking something connected to where we are or where we were…but then all the names from here don’t fit, and ‘Sama Sama’ wouldn’t be a good idea.”

I smiled at the shared memory, when we both thought it had been the night we’d conceived him or her, and shrugged. “Yeah nothing Malaysian, please. It wasn’t a great week.”

“I know. But here?”

“What are the ones that we couldn’t use?”

“Well…the obvious ones wouldn’t work…”

“Which are they?”

“Daniel or Daniele. And Marco. Or Marc.”

“Ah.” I took a little breath and nodded, both feeling that pang hit us a bit. “Yeah that wouldn’t be a good idea. I mean…same reasons you do.”

“I think that would push him a bit far.”

“I agree.”

“And Daniel or any kind of Pedrosa themed name-“

“To be fair it would only be Pedrosa themed if we made that the reason-“

“I’m not naming my son after Dani Pedrosa!”

“Calm down, son.” I grinned at the reaction and let my eyebrows stay up. “Dani is a sweetheart.”

“Hmm.”

“Ooh? Things I don’t know?”

“No, just, er…not sure I should really use that word?”

“No one thinks you’re gay anymore, it’s fine.”

“Pff. Nothing to do with that.”

“Just not quite mature enough, ok.”

“Fuck you.” He glared over the table and took a sip of wine, dessert gone and amused spark still shining back at me. “This is a principle.”

“I want to name my son Daniel Valentino.”

“Urgh.” He made an ‘ew’ face and knocked the final sip of wine back, food done with and drink now the same, before getting to his feet and holding out his hand, apparently somewhere we had to be. “I would just call him ‘Max’ as a nickname.”

“Jeje.” I squeezed his hand and smiled at the waiter who opened the door for us, back into the public world and apparently headed for the front door, and then looked sideways at him. “You know we could call him Giorgio, for something from Venice. The island opposite.”

“No.”

“No?”

“He’s not repeating my mistakes.”

“There’s more to a name than-“

“No.” He stopped us, now at the concierge desk and shaking his head. “That name was me, and I don’t want to pass that on.”

“It’s a shame.”

“I’m glad you like it but-“

“Well it’s my favourite name in the world.”

“What?!”

“Well…” Now having picked up warmer layers for outside, we were headed for a gondola. “It’s you. It’s the only name that makes me shiver and my heart skip a tiny bit...even on the days where you make me want to hurt you…”

“You won’t convince-“

“It’s the name of my best friend, my fiancé, and the father of my children. The name of the person I’m going to spend my life with. The name of my biggest inspiration…the name of a kid who became a teenager and became the man sweeping me off my feet every day.” I squeezed his hand and studied the look on his face. “It’s you. It’s not your dad, or your past. It’s you. So I’m actually a bit serious…” I pointed out at the tower illuminated opposite. “I want Giorgio as a middle name.”

“Ana please…”

“Please? I think it would be good for you.”

“Good for me?”

“You’re proud of who you are but too hard on what you aren’t, yet. But you’re still not comfortable with it.”

“Comfortable.”

“With the fact that you already did it.”

“Did it.”

“Defined yourself.”

“Maybe I did but I don’t want to define-“

“Maybe it would define our son a bit, yeah. Define him as yours.”

“But-“

“Listen to me.” I faced him and took both his hands before taking a step in closer so I had to look up to keep the eye contact. “We both have issues with this, I know. But you’re going to be his dad – and I know yes it might be a girl ok but about this name – you’re going to be his dad. And his hero. And your name, to him, is going to make him smile every time he hears it and knows his dad’s on his way. And to us it’s going to mean tonight, and this view, and this few days of heaven we managed to create, or you did. It’s letting go of the bad things it meant and redefining new ones. You’re nothing like him at all.”

“You mean my-“

“Yeah I mean your dad. _Our_ Giorgio is never going to have to hear your name and wonder what kind of mood you’re in or what he’s done wrong. He’s just-“

“Ok.” He nodded and let my hands go, moving his around my waist instead to pull me in a bit and nodding. “Ok.”

“You understand-“

“Yeah.”

 _Aww._ I smiled slightly at the choked up way it had come out and then ran my thumbs under his eyes, really trying to make the point. “Honestly, I mean it. I want this kid to be as much you as possible.”

 _As much me as possible._ I watched the lip wobble, heard the breath catch, and then saw him give up and close his eyes, pulling me in and nodding, cheeks wet. “O-ok.”

 _So much more than ok._ We stood there for a while until we both had in together a bit more, a few pictures of us just stood there surfacing later, and then didn’t say another word until we were snuggled in the gondola and I’d burrowed under his arm, breath warm near my ear and hand squeezing mine. “You know, tonight is one of those nights I wish I could propose all over again.”

“I know what you mean.” I leaned into a kiss and nodded, relaxing back into the quiet then making us both jump slightly and giggle as the boat rocked, one last thing to clarify . “I’d say yes, by the way.”

“Good to know.”

 _That smile will kill me._ “So we decided-“

“Yeah, Giorgio as a middle name.”

“Ok. And first?”

“No idea. And what about girls…”

“No idea.”

“Well…I guess we have a while to think about it... And, you know…if we’re prepared for both then…you know…maybe next time…we’ll have an idea…”

“Next time.”

“You know…his or her brother or sister…” He raised his eyebrows and watched my face for any sign of me headed overboard before relaxing as I started to smile and shrugged slightly, face more _well gosh yes I guess so._

“Right, makes sense…” I watched him implode at how I’d managed to say that before smiling and taking a deep breath. “So I’ll get my Giorgio eventually then…”

 _Eventually._ “Yes.”


	43. Cheste Part 1: Perspective

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you ♥ sorry it's been a while!!
> 
> Enjoy? I hope so! ♥ Switches between meeting the mother and the race weekend, pre quali.

“But honestly, if you don’t think you’re ready, we can just turn and-“

“Ana?”

“Yes?”

“I’m completely fine.”

“But-“

“Take a deep breath.” He smiled at me and leaned in for a peck on the lips before giving me no choice and whacking the doorbell, looking back at me like he was surprised I was still there rather than fleeing back down the drive. “If she doesn’t love me, you still will.”

_Ok good logic._ “You know I think somehow I will.”

*

“Honestly, I’ve never been this nervous on a race weekend before. I don’t even know why.”

“Yeah my arm’s a lot better thanks…”

I turned to him with a slightly guilty face before squeezing his hand across the table and sharing the smile. “Sorry Scotty. I’m glad.”

“I know.” He grinned at me and nodded, sunglasses pushed enough down his noise to make eye contact. “Sorry. I know it’s a big weekend.”

“It is a big weekend. And here, as well…it’s weird.”

“Hmm.” He nodded and let his eyes wander after two girls walking the other way before coughing and grinning at me slightly as I raised my eyebrows. “Ok, beer?”

“No thanks.”

“Wow.” 

“Well I can’t, can I?!” I grinned and shrugged before watching his face go from puzzled to mindblown and feeling the colour drain from mine. _Fuck._

“ANA?!!!”

“Shhh!!!!”

“Seriously?!”

“Um…yeah and SHHH!!!”

“Sorry!” Now flipping between mature excitement and childish horror. “Seriously!”

“YES!”

“And you’re going to have it?”

“Yes, we’re going to have it.”

“And he knows?!”

“YES he knows?!”

“Was it planned?”

“Not this early, no. But we’re both almost relieved we don’t have to wait by this point, I think.”

“You? With all your fear-“

“Oh don’t worry, I’m still terrified. And no, before you ask, ‘he’ doesn’t know yet.”

“Ah, ok. Planning on telling him?”

“No I’m just going to pretend I got fat in one specific place.”

“You know what I mean…”

“Yeah ok, I do. And yeah I think we should, just not sure when or how…”

“Well you could do it on the way to the grid on Sunday…”

I rolled my eyes at that and shook my head.

“…if you wanted to make sure those 24 points are even more safe as an advantage.”

*

“Ana.”

I smiled back at her and let her pull me into a hug, everything feeling a bit distant given how long since I’d really seen her properly, and then cringed slightly at her expression as her eyes turned to Jorge. 

“And you must be Jorge…”

“Pleased to meet you.” He smiled and nodded before kissing her on both cheeks and creating what I expected was a slight blush in his wake. _Oh, ok then. Maybe this will be easier than I thought._

“Come in. Would you like a drink?”

I nodded and smiled, taking his hand again as we followed and squeezing back as he did, before we shared a look at the badly concealed impressed-ness on her face and he leaned down to whisper. “ _Did she ever meet Vale?_ ”

“Yes, but not here. He never visited.”

“Right.”

“And you’re a MotoGP rider too.” Now in the kitchen, she put on the kettle and looked at him expectantly. “Valentino’s teammate I believe?”

“Yes, Valentino’s teammate.”

“That must be awkward.” The face that went with it, somewhere between disapproval, amusement and mischief, created the same thing on both our faces before I giggled and rolled my eyes.

“Yes mum, it’s awkward. But you know the truth-“

“I do, Anita.” She looked at us stood there kind of obviously very coupled up and then turned back to the kettle and addressed it with the next words. “And I’m very happy for you.”

I answered Jorge’s _I can’t tell if that is sarcasm_ face with a smile and left him to go and peer over her shoulder and share the smile with her. “You can already tell.”

“Well before you looked like you were having fun.” She smiled sideways at me before looking back at the Yamaha rider. “Now you look like you actually care what I think.”

*

Ana: I accidentally told Scoot

Jorge: Who is that :P

Ana: Fuck off. Scoot

Ana: SCOTT. ‘REDDING’

Jorge: Is that not his real last name?

Ana: Oh you’re in THAT mood :P

Jorge: I’m very bored in a taxi coming back now <3 but that’s ok with me. Alcohol?

Ana: Jaja yup, my declining was too shocking ;)

Jorge: I always thought my future wife would be a yoga obsessive health freak

Ana: Save it quickly

Jorge: Arggh YOU KNOW I didn’t mean how you LOOK because you are SO BEAUTIFUL

Ana: Well done ;) are we eating together?

Jorge: Please!

Ana: Ok, I will sort it. Love you <3

Jorge: Still amazes me <3 you too, see you soon.

*

Friday went well, ‘we’ were in the top 3 in both sessions and the most consistent. Saturday morning went ok except for some minor problems with a tyre that were luckily sorted for qualifying, before suddenly we were staring down the barrel of the Final Showdown, 4 of them in with a shot but realistically it more a Stoner-Lorenzo battle, Dani on pole, Casey second and Jorge third, and weirdly as it would seem from the outside, me and Adri had spent a lot of the day together and consequently Saturday night’s dinner was enjoyed with the enemy, the tweet about it proving popular, and everything seemed to be rolling the right way. If nothing else, Cheste being a home race for Jorge moved the popularity meter back slightly from ‘devil’ to more ‘neutral’, and Valentino, to his credit, didn’t say or do anything that couldn’t be classed as positive for a defrosting of relations. Uccio still seemed to want to spit at me rather than smile at me, but that hadn’t bothered me as much since Vale, shockingly, didn’t seem to take his opinion into account much, and Adri had giggled through the idea of no.46’s right hand man possibly having been _jealous_ of me. That was met by a giggle from me too as it seemed so far removed from a world in which half-naked girls were the center of too much attention, but if nothing else it made some kind of sense. Saturday night I had expected to end up in a very stressed Mallorcan having a solo shower and then giving me a cursory peck on the cheek as the light was turned off, but the reality ended up the opposite and something clicked as we closed the door behind us, everything starting to sink in again and making us smile quietly at each other for a couple of seconds, before I got every item of clothing slowly removed and was joined in the shower and the trace of the day slowly massaged away, towelled off and laid down on the bed like I would break. It didn’t irritate me like maybe it would have before because it was obvious enough he needed to do it rather than that I needed it, and the deliciously slow journey of his tongue from my neck down to my clit was only halted briefly for a line of kisses placed strategically across my stomach, eyes finding each other and both smiling and taking the moment to pause and share it before his mouth went back to my neck and I felt him hiss slightly as my fingernails dug in a bit too much, everything so gentle that you’d wouldn’t have believed he rode motorbikes at 340kp/h for a living, or the difference between the first few times when we’d made each other feel like this, and the way we’d come to know each other inside out and polished out the rough edges into something so perfectly choreographed – in the best possible way.

“I thought you would have wanted to sleep early and focus on tomorrow.”

He turned back across the pillow and smiled before tucking some hair behind my ear, both now covered in a sheen of sweat and him certainly looking no worse for it, I hoped I was the same. “It’s still early enough.”

“You’re not as stressed as I expected.”

“Same.” Little grin. “I think it’s because there are much more stressful things to think about now. I mean…” His hand found mine under the sheets and laced our fingers across my stomach. “I care, a lot. I’ll do almost anything to win that title tomorrow. But I have my priorities-“

“You don’t need-“

“I’m not saying this to make you worry less, although I hope it does. It’s just true. I want another title. I want this one. But I have perspective, because I have you. And soon we’ll have…whoever is going to arrive first…and I’ll have even more perspective. So yeah I’ll be pretty angry if I don’t win. Well, no. I’ll be angry if I don’t win because of bad luck, because I know I deserve it as much as Casey. But it’ll be ok. I can take being beaten better than I can take the idea of not having you and our family. It’s almost funny, now.”

_Aww._ “What I said in Venice really sank in, didn’t it?”

He nodded back at me and pulled me in, ending up with his face in the crook of my neck and breathing me in, hand squeezing mine. “More than anything else, I think.”

I smiled to myself, these moments not so rare between us, the moments where I was holding onto him, but still special to know why. _You finally trust me, absolutely. And what used to be walking away to deal with things is now pulling yourself closer and knowing that’ll work even better._ “Do you really want to wait until January?”

“Hmm?”

I shivered slightly as the noise hummed into my skin, pressing my lips to his ear and running my fingers through his hair. “I said, do you really want to wait until January.”

“I didn’t even want to wait until now, amor. Since the moment you walked back in from Tavullia-“

“Shall we see what we can do about that?”

“You mean December? What about-“

“No, I don’t mean December. I mean win the title or fight to the end for it, go to the awards, test, and then do it. Now.”

“Ana are you sure-“

“The look on your face says yes.”

“But-“

“Babe? _It’s my idea._ ”

“But you’re always so-“

“Scared of committing?” I smiled into a kiss as he pre-empted what I was going to say. _Exactly. We’re having a kid, now. We’re already ahead of the curve._ “Perspective...”

*

"She liked me."

"She did. I'm really surprised." I stuck out my tongue at him and grinned out the passenger window as he squeezed my thigh. "Nah, my mother can be difficult. She's also really switched on, and judges people for what they should be judged on, mostly. Hence why my parents are divorced."

"She didn't love Vale, did she?"

"Hmm...I don't know to be honest. I thought so at the time but I think she was happy I seemed to have found some kind of place in the world, if that makes sense. Now I think maybe she sees the difference."

"Between us or me and him?"

"Between us. Or well...both I guess. I think we're a bit obvious."

"Yeah sorry I tried to be more...low key but-"

"YOU?! LOW KEY?!" I grinned and winked at him. "I know, I don't know how we hid it."

"Me neither."

"Seriously though, weeks and weeks and we even managed to hide it from each other-"

"I guess at the time it was just important. Plus how embarrassing would it have been if you'd actually been really unattracted to me-"

"Yeah, sure." 

His turn to stick his tongue out, before pulling off the motorway into the services and ending up chasing me inside like we were 14, no one in rural Oxfordshire at 11pm giving a shit about who Jorge Lorenzo was, ending up in the disabled toilet for extremely out-of-character and therefore even more terrifyingly exciting public sex, journey back to the car accompanied by coffee and lots of fakely mature serious expressions.

"Love you."

"Eh?" I jumped slightly at the sudden voice after another while in calm quiet, and then swore as I ended up with a brown puddle of coffee on my skirt. Not hot anymore, but that not making it that much better, and both starting to giggle until I upended the last dregs in his lap and I giggled solo all the way back to Heathrow. _It's a hire car though so it's fine._

"Yes but I didn't hire my jeans, did I?"

_Mind reader._ I smiled to myself, eyes closed again but half asleep and pretending to be more than, knowing I was giving it away and then confirmed as he squeezed my knee again. "I will knit you some more."


	44. Cheste Part 2: You Know Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much, guys! Please let me know what you think. Nearing the end (ish) now! ♥

Warm Up was fine, Casey fastest and Jorge second with Dani slotting in behind them, everyone with good pace and no real clues as to how the race was going to go. And me and Adri watched together, again, and she’d somehow figured it out, although I was still surprised more people hadn’t, the way we were acting sometimes verging on sickening, and his hands already with a habit of going round me in a much-too-obvious way, both having gone from nervous terror to complete overexcitement at the possibility in less than two weeks.

Moto3 was crazy as usual, Moto2 pretty calm considering, titles already decided, and suddenly there was just us for our last two minutes before the battle, ending up stood face to face with his leathers still unzipped and just staring at me for a few seconds before nodding and leaning into a kiss, the kind that probably should have been our first rather than the one we’d inadvertently given that honour to all those weeks ago sat in Casey’s motorhome unsure of everything. The kind that left me on tiptoes and both of us backed into the wall and breathless, forehead to forehead and eyes closed, another peck to steal a couple of seconds longer, before I ran my fingers through his hair and pressed my lips against his ear. “Be careful, amor. Be really fucking careful.”

“I always am.”

“I know, but you know I have-“

“I know, you have to say it.” Stood up straight again he had enough height to kiss my forehead and pull me in. “I love you. _Both._ ”

I smiled into his chest and nodded, squeezing again before moving his hand over my stomach and closing my eyes to try and get a grip on how stupidly emotional it all got so quickly, in the best but least publicly acceptable way, as he sank down to his knees and lifted my t shirt to press a kiss against the skin. “Daddy’s going to go racing now, and when he sees you again, who knows? He might be world champion.”

“Jorge-“

“And your mummy is going to survive the stress that she’s trying really hard to keep hidden from your daddy because she knows he’s already stressed enough. So look after her until your dad gets back.” He looked up at me again and winked before another moment zinged through us and I took a deep breath.

“I’ve never been less scared by a decision this massive.”

“Same.” He grabbed my hand and kissed the back of it before flashing his eyes wide and letting a split second of crazy appear and making me grin. “Now let’s go racing…”

“Let’s go racing.”

*

The start was a classic Pedrosa start, off the line first and first into turn 1, no change round the first lap for the first group who stayed as they’d lined up, and both me and Adri carving into each other’s forearms with the stress, somehow rivals but definitely both more in camp _just be careful!_. And they were, and they started to pull away, lap by lap, until it was Dani leading Casey by 0.4, Jorge chasing a further 0.5 back, and the closest other rider 2.5s back by half distance; that not looking like it was going to change. So we made the mistake of relaxing slightly, until Casey saw the gap to Jorge close slightly and consequently made a move on Dani, slowing them both up enough to immediately have a 99 liveried Yamaha breathing down their necks, us looking at each other like we’d made a terrible mistake in letting our heartrates slow at all. Casey starting to really push and the gap was getting bigger, Australian accented grumbling under Adri’s breath distantly amusing me before I gritted my teeth and narrowed my eyes slightly as Jorge dived up the inside of Dani into T1 and managed to keep it, now 8 laps to go and two men ahead, the wrong way round for Jorge to win the title.

He closed it, bit by bit, until there was a Honda skittering on the rear tyre almost attached to a Yamaha gliding behind it, and we both felt it at the same time and I got up, squeezing her arm and grinning down knowingly as I ran back round the corner to Yamaha as they came down the straight, just in time to see him pull out to take the lead, stands responding to that and making the hair on the back of my neck stand up at the sudden reminder of how it was _meant_ to be before he’d been Yellow Enemy No.1. Casey took him back before the back straight and they went back to a stand off for a while, until Jorge took him again and nailed the next few corners before the straight, gap enough to not give him chance to come back, and I was left staring at the screen, completely still, as the gap went up from nothing to something to _enough_.

And then we won, and we were grinning at each other in Parc Fermé, and then he was grinning and answering questions, and I was nodding and somehow understanding the questioning face asking me _can I tell people?_ , and he was announcing who it was dedicated to, which was me and our news, and announcing what we had to announce. Then the podium and the jump and Casey and Adri congratulating us for both bits of good news, before we were back at Yamaha and I ended up stood watching Vale walk in, eyes flicking up to meet mine and nothing much said, and me, for some reason, following him down to somewhere more private and losing any idea of quite what I could say to the face looking back at me.

We stared at each other for much too long, I think, for me to have explained it to anyone else. There was a lot to say and not really any clue of which words to use, so we stood there a while and let that do the job for us, before he wrapped his arms round me, slowly, like maybe this was either the last time or the last time for a very long time, and pressed his lips against my ear. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you.”

“Thank you for not telling me before the race.”

“I meant to tell you personally before-“

“I know, everyone is too ‘appy, is ok.” He nodded into my hair and gave me a squeeze as my fingers dug into his back a bit more, weird helplessness of knowing I’d do almost anything to make him feel better, except the thing that would actually work. “I’m ‘appy for you.”

“I know you are.”

“Good.” 

I smiled sadly at the kiss planted gently in my hair, before biting my lip as his eyes locked with mine, stooped slightly to make up for the height difference and to make sure we were eye to eye. “You’ll be amazing as a mother, I think.”

“Vale I’m-“

“Shh, I ‘ave things I decide about the future too.” The same sad smile I could feel on my face. “Was already ‘ard, but I think now the decision is made.”

“Decision..?”

“You and Jorge is not going to go anywhere. And I think maybe is ok, maybe everything will get better before next season. But I don’t think it’s going to get better-“

“Course it will-“

“You’re going to bring the bambino-“

“Yeah-“

“Then it’s not going to get much better for a while, eh?”

 _I can’t just keep saying sorry._ “Sorry-“

“So I decide, already I think but now definitely, I think is time to see what I look like in red, eh?”

 _Oh my God._ I stared at him, breath caught in my throat and feeling everything go cold for a second as the words sunk in, before realising quite how serious he was; the right words harder and harder to find. “Vale you don’t-“

“I don’t have to, no. But I think is the best idea, now. Maybe in the future we come back and there’s a new reason we work together against Honda, eh?”

 _Yeah, maybe. And I will play along._ I’d never seen someone do such a good job of pretending they weren’t breaking. “Maybe.”

“And maybe you can call ‘im or her Valentino…”

I grinned back at the smile, sad laugh escaping me slightly before it turned into proper tears and I sniffed enough to be able to talk, this probably the biggest moment of all the ones we’d spent together, and one of the ones, I guessed, that we’d remember at 80. “Already tried that one…”

The look on his face is one I’ll never forget. “Don’t joke-“

“You know me.” _You do._ “Never.”


	45. Tenerife Sea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title/soundtrack from Ed Sheeran, fluff by Jorge Lorenzo. :)
> 
> Thank you so much!! I hope you like ♥

“Sorted.” 

I half turned back to him and smiled at the kiss into my neck, before looking back out at the view and squeezing his hands as they went round me. 

“No one in Spain ever got married this fast in the history of the world, I don’t think.”

“Well…” _Tomorrow, just wow._ “…I’m not so surprised by who the pace setter is to be honest…” I smiled at the low laugh and turned round to face him, ruffling through his hair slightly before letting myself get boosted up and carried back inside, healed enough now to not have to worry at all about breaking me further. _Tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow._ “Jorge…”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you for making me so happy.”

“Don’t even-“

I cut him off with a kiss and a shake of the head, both grinning into it, before we started up the stairs and I was on the bed, looking up. “I was worried a bit. Talking to Ricky in Bologna airport, staring at myself in the mirror and trying not to cry my PR-friendly make up into the sink-“

“Please don’t-“

“No, listen.” I took his hands and squeezed. “I’m saying it because you’ve kept your promises. We’ve had a wobble or two, but the trajectory is amazing. Ok? And because I’m relaxed now. Whoever I’m with or whatever you see, you know there’s never going to be anyone else-“

“I do.”

“I know. And I know there won’t be for you…” I dropped my voice to a conspiratorial whisper and leaned up slightly. “Because I think we’re invincible.”

“That’s how you make me feel.”

“Know the feeling.”

We stared at each other a few seconds before he gently pushed me down into the bed and ended up face to face again. “Do you want to break another tradition?”

“Hmm?”

“Well we’re definitely not meant to spend tonight together. And we’re definitely not meant to do this…” He grinned and raised his eyebrows at the reaction as my jeans were unbuttoned and his hand pushed under the fabric. “But I don’t think we’re that traditional.”

“I…” _Get to have you doing this to me forever._ “…agree.”

*

“No mama, you’re in the right place. It’s very small, just me and you and Laura, Ricky and Ruben…a few team guys. Ana’s mum is coming, her dad is working. A couple of her friends are coming. Casey and Adri. And then Scott Redding.”

_“Redding.”_

“I know, he’s awful but she seems to like him, so..” He grinned as I whacked him on the arm before his eyes went wide as I dived under the sheets and got really cruel. “Ok yes p..please…put the flowers in there and RICKY! And R-ruben will be there s-soon..”

_“Are you ok-“_

“Yes fine thank you just dropped something ok so we will see you there, love you mama…bye…bye.. BYE.” He put the phone down and yanked the covers up, eyebrows raised and amusedly unimpressed. “What the fuck was that?!”

“Don’t know what you mean…” I bit my lip before grinning and feeling the shiver go through me at the noise as my tongue descended again. _Don’t know what you mean at all, jeje._

*

“The groom has bothered to turn up!”

“Hey!” He smacked Ricky on the arm before ending up in a hug and grinning at Ruben over his shoulder. “I discussed it with the bride and we changed it by half an hour, ok?!”

“Discussed it with the bride?!”

“Yes, but don’t worry, I’ve not seen her in the dress.”

“Ok, good.” They both grinned at him before parting like a sea to reveal the small church. “Ready?”

 _So ready._ “So, so ready.”

*

“I’m not a fucking bridesmaid.”

I laughed and stuck up my middle finger before grinning at the look on his face and nodding. “You kind of are, because my friends’ flight gets in too late so-“

“I know, I know.”

“Good. Honestly, do I look ok?”

“Ok, Ana? I’m only going to say this once.” He winked and nodded before sighing and shrugging. “You should really change your mind and marry m-“

“Don’t!”

“Haha. But yes, you look incredible. Ok?”

 _Wow, ok._ “Really-“

“Yes, really.” He nodded again before holding out his arm for me to take, Scott the one in charge of driving me over there, everyone else having had to arrive a bit later. “Now let’s go and make the biggest mistake of your life-“

“This is very encouraging-“

“I’m not trying to be-“

“Try. Try to be a female stereotype and talk about shoes or something.”

“Ok well the shoes are good because you’re no longer 3 feet shorter than me-“

“Ok Scott don’t worry, just be quiet.”

He grinned down at me before giving me a squeeze and then letting go as we reached the door, him holding it open and nodding. “Ok, just this once, I will try.”

*

 _Oh, wow._ The sight made the hair on the back of his neck stand up, as he told me later. I felt the same thing. The three original musketeers; the Yamaha rider, the Moto2 rider, and Ruben ‘that guy who they always hang around with’. In beautiful suits, and one of them looking at me in a way so indescribable I think I stopped for a second in the doorway, because I remember Scott poking me slightly to set us off again, him the one, somehow fittingly and terribly at the same time, walking me down the aisle. It seemed to take hours but no time at all to get there, knowing he shouldn’t have looked at me and him remembering that and smiling straight ahead once he’d realised, looking back down at me once I’d arrived and giving me the tiniest shrug of admission. _Couldn’t help myself._ I remember smiling back, lacing our fingers together and squeezing his hand, and then the vows we’d both written somehow said, both voices a bit shaky at first and then relaxing more and more, everyone else in there fading to nothing almost, before the ring I was wearing was suddenly a different one, and he had one too, and the noise from behind us reminded us of the world around us. _We just got married._

I only remembered the _you look so beautiful_ when I was asked to talk about it, and only remembered more of the ceremony later, everything becoming one long string of happy moments after a while, before we were stood alone looking out at the sea, taking a moment and free from whatever we were meant to be doing, having gone for such a tiny ceremony, and then Chicho not being a nightmare and smiling at me. And then another moment alone, his chin leaning on the top of my head and hands going round me for a few minutes, before dancing and laughing and drinking enough but not enough to not fade the memory further.

Then the hotel, and the dress I’d changed into, red and the same simple cut as the wedding dress, no big skirt or veil or anything really, staring out at the sea from the balcony wrapped in a Yamaha jacket, unaware of the photo being taken behind me and not seeing the tweet until the next day, waiting for him to come back with champagne, which he did. Drinking some, putting the bottle down, the sound of the zip as his fingers pulled it down and the dress fell to the floor. The rustle of the sheets as we got tangled up in them, and the attention paid to every gasp until I was cuddled up to him and smiling into his chest, listening to the sea outside make us question whether it was winter at all outside.

*

lorenzo99: The happiest day of my life. Today @anaroja and I got married in Tenerife. Here she is, the love of my life… #bliss pic.twitter.com/igbjnmmbv


	46. Lady in Red

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fitting chapter number. ;) ♥ enjoy!

Tavullia, 20th November

 _“And we get this every day.”_ He hadn’t spoken to Jorge since Cheste, until that phone call. He’d sent congratulations via Ana and hoped and was sure they would have been passed on, and he’d stared at that picture of her on the balcony for too long over a glass of red wine in his kitchen, alone in the house for the first time in what felt like forever; needing that for a little while, everything feeling like a strange daydream and some time to reset necessary. _Perfection._ The way the dress clung to her hips, the way the Yamaha jacket, the anniversary red and white one, matched the red in the dress. The complete elegance of it but infused with some moto-practicality. The two sides of the right woman. And he knew the feeling that had probably caught Jorge blindsided and prompted the picture, and the feeling comparing the image on the phone to the image in reality and feeling blessed that the moment could be saved somehow. And he’d had the same view, a couple of times, when when they’d gone out to dinner or gone to events where he’d been forced into a suit and she’d worn a similar red dress and slinked off for a sly cigarette wrapped in his version of the same jacket. He’d not gone back to it since she’d left; still hanging in the hall and abandoned since the last time he’d seen her in it. 

_You look so good in red, I just hope I do, too._ He thought over the words again,nothing in them except someone who seemed like they wished they had any other option, and then sighed and knocked back the last dregs in the glass; putting it in the sink and standing at the window for a while staring out at the inky black of the garden, too many ghosts out there to ignore. _And that time when you came back, briefly enough to make everything worse, and I know you woke up before me, and you just moved even further under my jacket._

He grabbed his phone out of his pocket as it buzzed, looking down at it and sighing to himself again. 

Erica: I’m free tonight if you are ;)

 _Not sure I’ll ever be free._ He caught his own gaze in the reflection in the window as his eyes adjusted to focus closer and shared a sad smile with himself. _But I could do with a bit less self pity._

Vale: Not tonight beautiful, maybe sometimes soon :)

_Or probably not, once this goes live._

Vale: Are you asleep?

Jorge: No

Vale: Is Ana asleep?

Jorge: Yes and I’m alone on the balcony

“Ciao.”

_“Ciao.”_

*

Tenerife, 20th November

It wasn’t a big fight, it just required a growl of frustration and both walking off in different directions for a while, which we had done. Me to the bar, first, before Jorge walked in there and ended up with narrowed eyes staring at him across the room before I realised why that was unfair: I couldn’t make the most of the bar, being pregnant, and so the moment got replayed with me stomping back to the room and him sullenly staying put. It was a fight, again, about Valentino. About being publicly honest, because we’d gone through a few too many tweets and it had flared up again, understandably.

_I hope you crash and die. I hope she crashes and dies. I hope she runs off with Scott Redding. I hope the baby isn’t yours. The baby probably isn’t yours because she’s a whore. I hope she dies giving birth to it. I hope you crash and die._

It was horrific to read, and I could see his point. It was way too far and it had been going on way too long, but whatever it was about him that was going to make him, as far as I was concerned, the Greatest Parent Ever To Parent, was also the same thing that made him suddenly absolutely unable to be talked down, this time, the realisation that these things were being said about something that in the future was going to be a real person just seeming to much for him; plus the worry about both me and our future son/daughter reading them. So to him, the answer was simple. _He has to tell the truth before we have a child, Ana. He HAS to._

And I understood, I did. But I didn’t quite agree, because I thought it would keep getting better and better until it was a distant memory when we were packing him or her, and maybe some brothers or sisters, off to start school. _But I do see your point._

It didn’t last long, and we ended up curled up watching a movie and sending room service out for some popcorn in an uncharacteristic display of _I am Jorge Lorenzo, please fetch me things that aren’t on the menu_ , and I fell asleep on his chest before midnight for long enough to have created a small but unattractive wet patch of drool on his t shirt by the time he slipped away and ended up on the balcony staring between me and his phone; knowing I would probably be very angry about him doing what he was about to do, but also somehow knowing that I would get it, because ultimately, he was right.

_Because we still get this every day._

*

Tavullia, 20th November

_I bet she won’t know you called until she wakes up and reads it. I bet she’ll be mad. I bet you’ll be sorry._

_“They’re going to blame me. If you and Ducati don’t work out. It might not get better at all, it might get worse. And we get this every day.”_

He pours another glass, lights another cigarette, and stares into space for a while; this decision, like the other life altering one recently; made but still sinking in.

_I bet she’ll agree eventually._

*

Tenerife, 21st November

Dani: I think I owe you a bit of an apology. Sorry I was distant. Congratulations to both of you and I look forward to seeing you again next year :)

Ana: Eh?? Morning Dani! That’s nice and everything but what’s happening!

Dani: You didn’t see it yet…

I closed my eyes and groaned through a yawn before counting to 5 to calm myself down and showing the screen to Jorge, studying his face and swallowing, hard. _You definitely know what he means._

Ana: No…

Dani: Go and read it. :)

Ana: But I don’t think apology was necessary! Believe me I know we’re bad news atm, you have enough _ovejas_ writing shit already, don’t worry.

Dani: Thanks :) glad you understand. And no, you’re not bad news anymore!

I bit my lip and looked back at Jorge. _You did something, please tell me you at least warned Vale-_ I cut off my own train of thought as my breath caught in my throat and the headline appeared on the screen, words written in Cyrillic handwriting or as good as until my eyes could focus and my brain could grasp what they actually said, starting to flash hot in some kind of panic.

**The Lady In Red: Rossi on the Future With Ducati, and the Girlfriend that Never Was**

_You told them._ I stared at the screen for a few seconds, skimming through until it started to talk about it properly and feeling my eyes well up, before looking back at Jorge and staring at him, all the things I could feel looking back at me, in slightly different measures. Hope, fear, excitement, relief, happiness, warmth, protectiveness; everything.

“You didn’t make him-“

“I talked to him last night.”

“What did you-“

“I just showed him what they said. I _promise_ ; I just showed him what they said.”

Another few seconds, letting it sink in and closing my eyes for a second as my lip wobbled, completely overwhelmed, before I felt his lips on mine and his fingers lace through mine under the duvet, nodding into it and wrapping me up as I lost it, words whispered into my ear.

_“I can’t believe it either.”_


	47. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well...this is it! I hope you enjoyed it. From one random image in my head it turned into a fairly long ride, and I can't thank you enough for reading/comenting/kudossing! Special thanks to Lyra for keeping me going with this when I got a little lost in the middle! It's been around a while this one, and it's somehow fitting I think that I finish it before the next race. ;)
> 
> And so, arrivederci to another one...always a bittersweet moment but as I said, THANK YOU. And enjoy, I hope. ♥
> 
>  
> 
> _Bye bye baby!_

Florence

“Hi mama.”

I smiled at him again as his fingers laced through mine and we both felt another wave of sickeningly clichéd but true euphoria as the little bundle between us made some kind of noise I was sure we were going to come to understand better over the coming weeks and months, and years.

“Yes, she’s here. A baby girl, just over 6 pounds. Little, and a bit early, but perfect.”

 _God, you’re talking about US._ I felt that hit me again, both gazing down at her for a second before I felt another kiss hit my forehead.

“Yes a little early but mama and baby are doing well, and you can come and visit as soon as…oh…jaja ok, we will see you in a few hours then!”

 _She’s already on the way. Hope mine is too._ It was weird and a little unexpected, us having been in the countryside north of Florence when it happened, and everything a bit early, meaning the only person in the same building that was trying to help us rather than take photos of us was Ricky, half passed out in the corridor and giving us a bit of time. _‘She’s already on the way!’_

*

Mugello

“How does it feel?”

“Is a dream, no? Is amazing to win with now, three different factory. And win in red for Ducati, and to win ‘ere in Mugello…is very…how you say… _cazzo_ …full of emotion.”

“You said you never expected to win this year, after the first tests in Sepang.”

“Yeah, I get on the bike and I think _ffuuucckkk_ , is not going to be this year, eh?! But we maybe ‘ave a bit of luck this weekend, but already we stand on the podium. I think is a good foundation for the future, no?”

“It certainly seems like you’ve made a lot of progress. Congratulations Valentino, I’m sure you’re going to celebrate tonight!”

“Everybody in Mugello is going to celebrate tonight! And I want to say ‘ello to my newest fan who was born this morning. Auguri to Jorge and Ana, I just don’t know if they got the name the right way round!”

*

**_Lorenzo sets lap record in qualifying as baby arrives early_**

_Yamaha’s Jorge Lorenzo broke the lap record around Mugello yesterday after his pit board had an unusual announcement – his wife Ana going into labour! Realising that it would be quicker to complete the lap than abandon it, the 4-time World Champion rode a lap 0.4 seconds quicker than the previous best to arrive back to his box in record time. His daughter, Senna Ali Valentina, was born the following morning._

_Congratulations Jorge, we will see you back in Catalunya!_

*

Montmeló

“Ciao.”

 _You’ll always make me shiver just a little bit._ “Hello there, championship contender in red.”

“Yes! Jeje. No kiss? What ‘appen?”

 _You’ll always be you._ “Jeje sorry? Come here.” I leant up and wrapped him up in a hug, both breathing it in for a second and closing our eyes, letting the joke settle before ending up eye to eye.

“You weren’t joking with the name then…”

“No.”

“And somehow he says yes…”

“I can be very persuasive…”

“ _I remember._ ” He grinned at me for a second, spark twinkling at me and eyebrows slightly raised, before pulling me into another hug and pressing his lips against my ear. “One day, I think ‘opefully I can return the favour, eh?”

“I think you did enough-“

“Enough is never enough!”

 _Never._ “Vale?”

“Hmm?”

“You know we chose each name together-”

“Ana-“

“And you know if you can, and only be honest, if you really can, I think Jorge has something to ask you.”

I watched the words tick through his brain and the battle between emotion and control rage on his face for a second before he flipped his Oakleys down and nodded, realising exactly what it was going to be and me realising it was the first sign I had become a little further away from him than I used to be. “Ok...”

“Only if you can-“

I smiled as the sunglasses came down his nose again slightly, eyes shining over the top of them and into mine. “I think if you say to me in November I can get ‘ere, I call you a liar. So sounds like it would be an honour.”

 _Maybe a difficult one._ “ _Vale_ , padrino. Andiamo…”

“Eh you’ve been learning-“

“Well, maybe? Gallina vecchia fa buon brodo…”

 _Yeah, I definitely loved you._ “Oh no! Learn good Italian, Anita-“

“Siii-“ I smiled into it as an arm went round my waist and a kiss hit my hair, doing nothing more than relaxing and feeling myself return the gesture, for the first time since I'd watched them yelling at each other in an otherwise quiet paddock, what seemed like years ago. “Like you..."

He winked and gave me another squeeze. " _Sempre,_ Ana. _Always._ "

*

@lorenzo99: Good day relaxing, watching the Godfather! @ValeYellow46 pic.twitter.com/jhcnb

_Retweeted by Valentino Rossi, Ducati Motor, Ana Lorenzo and 4,924 others._

@ValeYellow46: Was an offer I couldn't refuse ;)! "@lorenzo99: Good day relaxing, watching the Godfather! @ValeYellow46 pic.twitter.com/jhcnb"


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